This New World of Mine
by Trane7
Summary: When you die, you expect to see death. What he didn't expect was to suddenly find himself dropped into a very familiar world, given choice and free reign to do as he pleased. Given powers and the word of some organization of people or thing, this young man will soon find himself thrust into something bigger thane he was. Pseudo-SI fic? Semi-God Power.
1. Chapter 1

My name is Tom Brieler, I am an eighteen year old high school dropout who had been working as a cashier in a convenience store. That seemed like a normal life right? Or, perhaps it wasn't normal, I didn't really check the statistical data of high school dropouts, so I couldn't really compare my life with anyone else. But I did know that it was my life, something that I was familiar with and comfortable to be a part of.

That changed ten days ago when I died. I don't remember how I died, all I know is that my last moments had been spent on some sidewalk. Maybe I had been hit by a car, or perhaps I tripped and broke my neck, I suppose I would never know. Of course, there comes the question, how am I writing this? How am I, a person who was meant to be dead, able to write in an old leather book on the third floor of an apartment complex on downtown New York, Earth?

Thing is, I'm not even sure I am. I don't really know if I was the same man as I was back then, maybe I am just a copy. I don't know. All I know was that I was born in the year 1997 and right now the year was 2513, when the Eridanus Insurrection of UNSC space was at its infancy with Colonel Robert Watts at its head. That's right, I'm in the Halo universe, as far as I know.

My knowledge of Halo lore wasn't the greatest but it helped me get by. The only thing that I had been given when I woke up in an alleyway on Earth was the clothes on my back and a letter. It read, _Hello! You have been chosen for a prestigious program where ordinary everyday people are placed within universes that they are partially familiar of. To add to this we have granted you with specific powers that you may use at your leisure, please do as you wish and don't feel pressured. We here in charge of this program want you to feel as welcome as you can._

After that I blacked out again, waking up in a hospital with a nurse checking the various medical instruments I know nothing about. It was strange, everything looked so much more advanced than the equipment I had grown up with. It was so surreal, then my brain started kicking up again and I felt a mild discomfort as knowledge was inputted in my head followed by a word; _Dreamer_.

I don't know what _Dreamer_ meant by from the rest of the information, I realized I had been given a specific set of powers. One, I can manipulate things around me, primarily to levitate and use at my own will. I can spawn NPCs, or Block-life as the information informed me, and I can manipulate worldly information and human perception. However, I cannot manipulate my base stats, effectively stopping me from becoming faster or stronger, and I can't levitate myself or anything of the like.

At the time I suppose I could live with that and I had. The woman had told me that I wasn't registered in UNSC files and I responded by testing out my new powers. I manipulated time and space, gave myself my own informational data, and forced it to come to life. What happened next could be considered lag, as the world around me tried to perceive the sudden change. People hovered in place, flashing in and out of existence, which had freaked me out a little bit, before returning to normal.

After that the woman had rechecked my files and it came up perfectly fine. Needless to say, I was pretty shocked and I tried to do it again but to my immense disappoint the second time seem to be harder than the first. Since that week onward I had been working to increase my proficiency in my powers. However, I was only able to create weaponry and armor, change my basic information into something else entirely and that was about it.

Now, I am the Company head of a Private Contractor, which I had amazed myself at picking. Basically I'm a legal mercenary group, that was also illegal in certain points of views. It was certainly not an occupation I would have chosen for myself. I had however suddenly understood why the new changes of myself became harder. The first time was easier because I hadn't existed yet, therefore the world had, let's say, overwrite less people to properly bring me into existence.

However, the _nurse_ had seen him and his file. When I returned to the hospital, the woman had been shocked to see me and was fidgeting under my gaze. I found soon after from hearing her colleagues whispering about having treated a Mercenary in the hospital and poor Medaline had been accidentally placed to care for him. I deduced, or hypothesized I don;t know the exact terminology, that the system was overwriting her brain to compensate for the information. However, I guessed that the new information didn't directly correlate to her actions that day, as the band aid she had given to a cut on my head and the smell of her perfume still lingered on my clothes.

So more than likely, the change was more superficial than physical. I guessed anyways, there was a lot of things I didn't know about the powers I had been given. Furthermore from the people who had placed me here, it was so odd to think that I had the ability to perform such feats, ones that would be reserved to a system administrator.

The whole idea made me uneasy, I didn't know what in the world I was supposed to do. The letter had told me that I could do anything I wanted, but I didn't even know what I wanted. A part of me was tempted to go on a massacre but I quickly tossed that thought aside when I thought it was too far out of his depth and that would grow old rather quickly for me. I had always been a story kind of guy.

Then it struck me, why don't I try to fix everything. Maybe I can, perhaps I would make things worse. Who can really say, I sure can't. But, I thought it wouldn't hurt to try and hey the people that put me here was able to rewind time, as I suspected anyways, as I appeared in the Halo universe years before the events of Halo CE. If I failed, they could probably fiz my mistakes and discard of me, which I guessed scared me but at the same time, my only thoughts were placed in the single idea of maybe stopping the death of so many Spartans. Of maybe, in some long winded way, save the many people lost to death by the Covenant, or perhaps expose Truth for the liar he was.

But that required planning that i, unfortunately, don't have too much of. I didn't know as much about the Halo universe as I would like to be able to match the complex planning needed to out manouvre the practical destiny of the universe itself, not to mention I didn't know _where_ to start. I'm a high school dropout for pete's sake! I'm not some brilliant military tactician!

I guess this is why I had decided to begun writing in a journal, for whoever to read and to organize my own thoughts as well as to recount the events of the next decade as I try to unravel the mess which was the Halo universe. I just hope however that I can fix everything, that no matter what happens everything would be ok.

I hope so anyways.


	2. Chapter 2

How long has it been since I made an entry. One, maybe two weeks? I'm guessing one and a half. Anyways, I've been able to gain headway in my abilities, but still not quite yet I would hope for. As the head for a Private Military Contractor, now registered as 'Dimensional Intervention', lame name I know, I had been busy with a lot of paperwork. I had been forced to reset my information again so that my age appeared as a twenty-three year old male, instead of an eighteen year old. That had made me scared as the reset had taken a whole day to happen.

I worry that one day I might end up breaking the universe, which is why I've begun limiting how much information and human perception I can manipulate. Maybe I can funnel my power so that it only affects one person, rather than the whole universe, or target it specifically to computers. Until then however I guessed I was out of luck.

But there was one good thing that came from my late night brain storming. With the Eridanus insurrection in full-swing, the demand for para-military forces to aid UNSC forces suddenly rose. With the expanse vastness of the Eridanus system, small proxy wars were being raged on distant planets. It was quite the comparison to the Cold War counterpart, I think it was the Cold War anyways or was it the Panama confrontation? Was it even called the Panama confrontation? Never mind, I'm going off topic.

Anyways, with the sudden demand for Mercenaries, I had decided to sell my company services to the UNSC, work for them in stomping out the rebellion. The URF, as far as I've read in some Halo Wikis and forums, was not an organization I wanted trutting around any longer, especially since they caused a whole slew of problems throughout events following the end of the Human-Covenant War.

While that was happening however, my Mercenaries would gain fame and popularity all throughout the world, or at least in Eridanus, where I will later then begin operation in setting up a larger base of operations from the earnings we received from the Eridanus insurrection. Of course most of the money would be _spawned_ in by me. I'll keep using that word from now on to represent me making things appear out of thing air.

To continue, the idea seemed like a good one to me. I have no doubt in my mind that somebody else could come up with better, but this was about all I could wrack my brain over. After I set up my base as a Private Military Contractor, I would use the fame and popularity as an excuse to start weapons development and research. Which basically translated to me spawning stuff from other worlds. That, didn't sound too far fetch, however I would have to be carefully in my selection of equipment. That depends on what exactly careful represented.

Either way, it seemed like a solid draft, for now. I had returned home from the office all giddy and awake, when I should have been tired. The idea literally came to me while I was sitting down in the waiting room of the registration office. It was surprisingly clean despite being a place where Private Military Contractors went to sign their papers, I expected more tattoos.

So I got home and now I have the basis of a plan. So I started getting it done, meeting up with my criteria and ideas. Of course my first order of business was to move the company off an apartment room, so spawning in some credits, I had procured a warehouse in the New York docks. Now the most glamorous place but it suited my needs.

From there I began bringing in random things I thought would be needed. I brought in tables, computers, weapons from E-11's that stormtroopers used to Avenger-IVs from Mass effect. Simple things really, I severely doubt the mercenaries that would be employed underneath me would be using it. After that I sat down on a newly spawned chair and wondered, what was I going to do now.

The warehouse was large for its size, maybe thirteen kilometers across and ten meters high with a length of fifteen meters. It was a lot bigger than I expected of getting. Now however it was packed with random weapons, armor and other such niceties as I tried to think on people to take the place of mercenaries.

I wondered what exactly I could use. The Terminators? No, I think someone would be able to detect all the metal and abnormality of the things movements. Maybe in the future when his company became a technological powerhouse. Yea, that sounded right. So with Terminators out I tried to come up with something else, but the other thing I thought about using was a Combine soldier from Hal-life. I supposed they were out of the question too as they were too strange and their armor would make them stand out.

Then I came across a startling realization. What about _Mandalorians_. Yea, that sounded epic! Logic was tossed outside the window as I imagined what a battle between insurrectionists and freaking Mandalorians would be like. I would feel entirely satisfied. But sadly they would have to relinquish their armor which would suck, to be honest. But they could probably keep other things, like their vambraces, vibro-blades and jet pack. The armor would have to be tossed aside for something more, uh, modern in this age. Plus, it was plastoid anyways, not Beskar...unless I made it Beskar. I should do that, get a set of Beskar armor waiting and ready just in case when the future started to show itself. Grinning to myself, I closed my eyes and focused.

Making material was, in contrast, then changing my appearance. Unlike me, these things were made on the spot, not needing the universe to overwrite itself to path out the new beings presence. Simply imagine me as a Virus software, I have administrative powers and such, whenever I update the computer needs to shutdown in order to completely adjust to the new software. Imagine the things I bring in are documents, or maybe HTML documents, which are blank and affect nothing in the system itself. Yet they have their own purpose. I would still need to come up with identities for them, but I suppose that they didn't really need them as they were after all mercenaries and wouldn't be in the limelight often.

I had only did my information in a panic at the new circumstances, but if I did need to I would probably fix my informational data, with espionage now instead of world breaking, that I came from some backwater UNSC planet that was left behind and allowed to grow independently. Most of my mercenaries came from there too. I guess that was plausible. Maybe, I hope so anyways.

Anyways, I concentrated on what I wanted to bring forth. This was my first time trying to bring up something that wasn't an inanimate object, or _0 Block-Life_ as I was informed. Breathing in deeply, I found my mind strained as I thought harder and harder, more from my frustration than my anger, and proceeded to will my strength through. Finally I opened my yes and gaped when i saw a full platoon of Mandalorians standing in full Madalorian armor in front of me.

Thankfully they were all human, so that meant I wasn't going to need to delete any of them. One of the Mandalorians, the apparent leader of the group as far as I was concerned, stepped forward with his weapon against his chest. "What are your orders, Mandalore?" He said. I blinked, _me_ as Mandalore? That sounded far-fetched but I supposed the Mandalorians had to be instilled with loyalty somehow.

Frowning, I tried to make doubly sure of that, "Will you and all other Mandalorians under you swear to follow me, my decisions and fight the enemies I fight?" That sounded too dramatic, but I supposed that couldn't be helped. The leading Mandalorian glanced at the other two by his side, who seemed to be his second and third in command respectively, before nodding his head.

"We swear by Mandalore!" He said with pride and conviction. It had honestly shocked me, such devotion and loyalty to me was something I wasn't used to. Still it felt good as the other Mandalorians roared their agreement. Understanding that they were loyal to me, I immediately laid down the plan of what was going on.

"Do you all know why you are here?" I had asked, warily glancing at all of them.

"We know you had created us for a purpose. We also know we are not in our universe," The same Mandalorian said. I nodded, satisfied, at least I didn't need to tiptoe or deal with the aftermath of telling them the truth.

"Do you men have names?" I asked. There was a coughed in the group and my cheeks colored rosy red realizing my mistakes, "Uh, men and women?"

The leading Mercenary thumbed his chest and said a simple, "Arc, this one is Manth Ma, and the other one is Stylin." I nodded my head even as more names were rattled off. I had about a good two dozen Mandalorians at my disposal and an insurrection in the Eridanus sector which was going to become one of the bloodiest to date.

I felt, reassured. But none of that mattered at the moment. I quickly laid out the plan for them, the idea of a future for their company as well as stopping the Covenant invasion at its heels. They all cheered, some mixture of blood lust and pride in their voice as they realized it hinged on their battle prowess as Mandalorians.

I supposed they were a warrior race for a reason. I had told them however to forego their armor and most of them seemed disgruntled at that, but obeyed without fuss and I had given them a uniform that looked almost like the UNSC Marine armor. For one thing the chest armor was more bulkier in the front with an antenna on their backs. Holsters for pistols were attached to their hips and armored leggings that covered the sides of the calves and the shin were worn as well. Their arms were almost fully armored, save for the joint which was replaced with a piece of metal that defended the outer part of the elbow. Their helmet was also much like the UNSC equivalent, however it had a yellow tinted eye covering which served as a HUD and encompassed the head a lot more than the UNSC's did. It even partially cover the mouth, revealing only a small portion of their chin which the Mandalorians covered up with balaclavas.

All in all, they cut a pretty intimidating picture. It was my first real step in a direction where I could potential help develop the world into a better place. Potentially anyways, perhaps I could make it worse with the introduction of the Mandalorians, or perhaps these men and women in front of him will become pivotal players in the coming Covenant war. Who knows, but regardless I had decided to no longer spawn in anymore Mandalorians. Maybe I would spawn in Clone Troopers next, or Rangers from the Metro 2033 series to take over. That didn't sound too shabby.

I crossed my arms after the day's sun began to set and the rest of the night was spent cataloging and stowing away the multitude of weapons and armor I had brought. The E-11's were unfortunately deemed completely unusable until they get their 'Research and Development' sector online. So instead they had been cleared to use Avengers from the Mass Effect series Of course with upgrades and Heat Sinks provided.

I had also provided them with Spas-12's from the Half-life series for them to use. Thought it would be funny and cool to see being used in this era. He had allowed them carry their blaster pistols however and their jet packs had been modified in appearance to better fit the image of the UNSC's version but the torpedo launcher was still there.

With that out of the way I realized the only thing I had to worry about now, was probably to actually get missions so that I can help in that endeavor. Thankfully, I can just make my own mission, it would be quite the interesting show, definitely.


	3. Chapter 3

**Third PoV**

 **Lieutenant Arc**

Lieutenant Arc didn't remember much of his previous life, not that any of the other Mandalorians under his Mandalore remembered as well. They knew their names, their skills and their honor, but that as far as their knowledge went. When they came to fruition however, they were implanted with the knowledge of their new Mandalore and the person who had brought them into this universe to undertake a new more daunting task. Arc had been curious though of what task he had been comparing it to, the last thing he remembered was fighting something known as the Yuuzhan Vong.

He supposed it didn't matter anymore. He glanced to his second-in-command, a wryly lass named Manth Ma, to which they merely called her Ma, and gestured his head to the bushes. She nodded and began making a few hand signals to which a pair of Mandalorians started crawling through the shrubbery. Arc watched them go and lamented the loss of his armor. He would not lie and say his new Mandalore was the greatest warrior to have ever existed, however, he was instilled with some inexplicable reason to follow and obey his every command. A deep sense of shame burning deep inside him whenever he had disappointed the young Mandalore in any way.

"Squad 2," he whispered into his earpiece, "Where are you in the base?" There was static on the other end, before somebody replied, " _We're deep in the Armory setting the charges, we'll be out in two minutes._ " Arc silently nodded his head and gestured for Ma to take get her sniper ready.

Their mission was simple, take out a simple insurrection base that had been stirring trouble all throughout this part of the Eridanus system. Of course, this particular base hadn't existed without some nudging from his Mandalore. Many of the weapons the insurrection had at their disposal was thanks to his secret funding, making them a very dangerous target for UNSC forces. It had to a lot of deaths however, and his Mandalore had grown distraught over it however he had grown steely gazed when he said resolutely that their deaths were needed for the bigger picture to play out.

That was a sudden amount more admiration in arc when he heard that. He didn't know why, he just felt it. " _Alright, bombs are set, we're heading to minimum safe distance!"_ Arc shut off his thoughts and quickly ordered Ma to prepare. They waited with baited breath, then the warehouse to the southeast of the base when up in a gust of flames. The Mandalorian in him suddenly felt greatly pleased with it, before he quickly ordered Squad 2 to move into the base.

"I have targets moving out of the Officers Quarters on the East side," Ma said to his side. Arc zoomed in to where she pointed out and grinned when he saw them, fresh-faced young officers who were running out in nothing but formals. They were easier pickings than Imperials. "Take 'em out!"

Manth Ma opened fire, the Viper sniper rifle she was using closing the distance much faster than this universe's equivalent of a sniper he thought their blasters would be more better suited to this than the slug throwers, but he had to give credit where it was due.

The Officers fell one by one, sometimes even by two, and by the time they realized what was happening the last one had already been taken out and Squad 2 was inside their ranks reeking havoc the only way a Mandalorian knew how.

Arc watched from his position as they rose into the air using their jump packs, shooting down hails of gunfire onto the helpless rebels beneath their feet. One of Squad-1's more daring members swooped in low to the ground, flying over the canteen, and launched his missile. It sent the whole place in flames, burning a hole large enough for a tank to fit through into its side. He figured it was damage worth it, they were trying to make a name for themselves after all.

Arc quickly ordered the men inside, their orders were specifically clear. The only reason they were there was to kill a Lieutenant McAllen, who was living in a completely separate room as opposed to the other Officers. The Mandalorians he had sent into the bushes were racing through the opening that Squad-2's destruction had caused and ventured deeper into the base.

Soon they would have McAllens head and the mission was a success. The Mandalorians performed their jobs to the utmost precision, exemplifying their prowess in combat. Arc grinned at the display of guttural damage, making himself feel like a warrior in war again.

Their first mission as members of Dimensional Intervention Inc. was a success.

 **Journal Log, First PoV**

Today's year is 2514. I heard on the news that Colonel Ponders had been demoted to Captain after the disastrous mission in Elysium city. If I remember right, he was the man in charge of the Militia group that would be meeting the Covenant for the first time on Harvest. I couldn't recall much from the novel, but what I can was massacres on the Militia end with only Private Jenkins and another man having survived the entire ordeal.

It was terrifying to think about. Completely and utterly. Still, I supposed that was what the Covenant was meant to instill when they were created by Bungie, to be a force not to be trifled with. It was, disconcerting to realize that I had been put into such a place. Where once was fiction now a reality.

It was terrifying to think that perhaps the words I am writing now would be mirrored again in another reality. An infinite plane of existence where this simple journal was being written by the same people over and over again. It was, oddly philosophical of me to think about. And I took it as a sign to get my shit into gear.

Following the successful assassination of Lieutenant MacAllen and the destruction of the base and procurement of intelligence data for the UNSC, Dimensional Intervention became circulate all throughout the underworld in ways I had never expected. How do I know? It was because of the Assassin standing opposite me, La Volpe, who I brought into my merry band of Mercenaries. He had accepted my ideals and goals rather easily which only further my hypothesis that the beings I create were instilled with loyalty to me. That was, again, reassuring.

i had La Volpe get into the underground networks, dressed in more casual clothes of course, spying on the more illegal Mercenary bands and gangs. My company name was starting to become widespread but not in the way I had hoped. people were calling me the second coming of Merryweather, which didn't please me.

Not one bit, not at all! I have however grown grateful to La Volpe and his new Thieves Guild, a little bit more natural income was flowing in alongside information gathering. There were boundaries however and I had warned the Italian of ONI. He had scoffed, told me that he had dealt with Romans, and then went on to add that even the Japanese could not outwit him. I was left confuse after that but I left him be.

On the home front, the Mercenary Group grew strong, as Arc and his two dozen Mandalorians had been hired to take out insurrectionist bases by the UNSC and even as bodyguards for local delegates as they traveled between worlds, afraid of being attacked by the URF. Some Inner World Colonies had even called for their assistance, leading to Arc in curious positions of law enforcement and security.

One rich man's party to a SWAT team getting more than they bargained for and needing some hired help was quite the jump. But, it was something that even I hadn't expected, which wasn't saying much, and was done about as well as you'd expect by soldiers rather than police officers.

It was still nothing to be all peachy pie over, they still had more business to handle with. Now that they had gained some level of notoriety and Earth was starting to become less of a viable place to set up my Mercenary Group HeadQuarters I had bought the rights to land on a nearby colony world outside Sol but still within the territory of the Inner Worlds.

Soon however, he would open up his Research and Development center, filling it with some choice scientists. Dr Vahlen was up on my list, alongside Dr Gordon Freeman, because why not as I always say. While they got around to making some actual improvements that I probably couldn't do on some of our tech and weapons, I would go about doing other things that didn't involve numbers because I (and this Author) wasn't really that tech savvy.

But onto more immediate news, I had decided to pick Tribute as a place to set up Dimensional Intervention as it was the closest to Reach where, soon in 2517, just shy of three more years, the SPARTAN-II candidates would be kidnapped and placed under training with Dr Halsey and Master Chief Petty Officer Mendez.

I'm started to grow paranoid that someone might read my journal. Maybe ONI was started to catch a whiff of something out of he ordinary with my actions, maybe. La Volpe hadn't said anything and I trusted his judgement, however maybe it would do well to bring in more Assassins. Arno was pretty well-attuned to the underground network, Connor not so much. Ezio was a better pick for that but I doubt the casanova could control himself, but then again maybe that was a benefit, I guess why not,

Why not indeed. But there came the serious issue of what to do _if_ ONI really did find out. ONI was a huge screw up long before the Covenant came into the picture. Especially Admiral Parangosky and her pet project, Serin. Maybe, and it was just me hoping, that perhaps with the advancements that our R &D labs would make over the coming years combined with our closeness to Reach would lead to the UNSC asking for some assistance in the SPARTAN project. I knew that was out of the question however as it was a UNSC _Military_ secret. Something you didn't share lightly with Mercenaries. If anything he at least hoped that when Vahlen deemed it fit to release the new application of Medigel, that combined with the canisters in the XCOM universe, would at least save many of the SPARTAN candidates from their disfigured and painful augmentation.

That was just a hope at least.


	4. Chapter 4

Tom grinned as best he could as he shook the hand of the UNSC's Secretary of Defense. He carefully tried to stow away the fact that he probably looked like a gangly child in comparison to the older war veteran, something he was sure the Defense Head knew and was taking pleasure in.

Arc, the Mandalorian leader that Tom had since considered a close friend, was standing to the side. He wasn't dressed in his Mandalorian Beskar armor, instead opting to wear their low-key Halo-era armor set. However the Mandalorian armor had been 'hinted' at by Dr Vahlen and, to a lesser extent, Dr Freeman to the media for a couple of weeks now either way.

Ever since Dimensional Intervention Inc. set up on Tribute, Tom had pulled Arc off the roster for active Operatives and brought in the Clone Commandos from Star Wars Republic Commandos and Alpha and Bravo from TWO. They were heading most of the operations for Merc work while Manth Ma and her Mandalorians went out dealing with pirate control. Naturally this work has garnered much media networking, the Clone Commandos who Tom had dressed in similar looking armor to the Mandalorians having received a tentative amount of it compared to the louder, more destructive, Alpha and Bravo.

Following that however, the Dimensional Intervention Inc. had opened their Research and Development Department, headed by Dr Vahlen with Dr Gordon Freeman as technical advisor. Tom had just given the two scientists, who had been joined by minds that they had specifically requested from him from their own worlds, several different contraptions to improve upon. The result was a medical device similar to that used by XCOM personnel, however this one was larger by half and had a rotating nozzle that could dispense medigel or biofoam. The two were tricky substances as medigel and biofoam carried similar properties, however, medigel required less operation and surgical applications while biofoam acted more as an advanced painkiller and substitute for a surgeon. The new HMS-Gun, which stood for Handheld Medical Substances Gun, had received universal acclaim and was being fielded by the UNSC Army. The Marines were slower on the uptake in comparison with the first few shipments being sent off to the Special Ops branches.

This coupled with the Merc company's other feats resulted in widespread popularity. Tom however didn't like all the social gatherings he had to attend now and the constant meetings with UNSC Heads worried about future employments with his company. Most of them were more interested in the HMS-Gun though and future technology, but Tom had adamantly stood steadfast against their prodding with some added help from Arc. The Mandalorian becoming a valued second-in-command.

Tom let go of the Defense Heads hand, smiling awkwardly at the cameras flashing in his face. Almost pleadingly, Tom gestured wildly with his fingers to the watchful gaze of Arc and despite the rather chaotic movements the Mandalorian was able to get the gist of it. Bless that man!

He moved up to the stage, hand pressed in his ear in some theatrical show as he bent down to whisper in Tom's ear. The flashing cameras doubled in ferocity at what they imagined was important news but in reality was Arc describing a blonde reporter at the back of the room.

Tom tried hard to keep the grin off his face as Arc started making fun of the bewildered expression on the Defense Heads face and the young company head pulled away before he lost it and said, "I'm sorry important news has came up needing my attention."

Tom excused himself and stalked off the stage, followed closely by Arc who raised his arms in an attempt to quill the reporters lust for knowledge. The Mandalorian was grumbling as he had to physically push back some over zealous patriots from getting too close to Tom. However the reporters were completely unaware to the presence of two hooded men moving in and out of the throng of people.

When Tom exited the conference room he quickly headed off towards a secluded off section of the hallway. With a simple thought of his mind the cameras were either shut off or moved to other angles.

Ezio and Desmond appeared, eyes locking with Tom as they marched to an armored truck outside the consulate building. Two mercenaries, who were from the Hazardous Environment Combat Unit lifted off Black Mesa, opened the back of the truck for him before getting in themselves.

Adrian Shephard, who was in charge of the HECU, nodded his head in greeting to Arc who merely exchanged a Mandalorian hand shake. Tom sat down on one of the rows of seats and ordered the truck to continue moving.

"Did you guys get anything?" Tom said out loud but everyone knew it was directed to the two assassins.

"I got two Innie assassins in the bathroom," Desmond said, his chest inflated a bit in pride.

"I got a blonde girls number," Ezio said with a grin. Desmond slouched, now understanding his little feat was more of the older assassin being bored of the task at hand. Tom merely brushed it off, he had long understood that Ezio only took certain actions when he was certain the Dreamer's life was not at stake.

"Arc what do we have on Operations?" Tom asked, he had been away from the office for too long and wasn't able to keep up to date on some of the activities.

"Manth Ma is getting angsty at the increased rate of Innie hijackings and is requesting additional troops. Boss is having difficulty handling the contract of protecting Senator James Pyreson on Sea Cove as URF forces have blockaded the city. The entire place has degenerated to urban warfare."

Tom hummed, not liking what he was hearing. He rubbed his forehead which was slowly developing a headache from his already annoyed mood. "Alright, send Alpha and Bravo to Sea Cove, they have experience in those situations. Tell Manth Ma to disengage, those Innie hijackings are an excuse for the UNSC to send two SpecWar marined to Harvest in the guise of training instructors."

Arc nodded his head and pulled up a datapad where he began typing into. Seeing that done Tom glanced at Desmond, who was frowning in contemplation at him. "Why don't you bring in a Star Destroyer or something? It would help us a lot."

Tom shook his head, already tired of having explained this to himself a countless number of times. "I don't want too many people. I've Dimensional Intervention relatively small despite our reputation since if I put too many non-universe people things will be getting complicated. A Venator needs at least 11 000 for a full garrison, do you know how much time and planning I would need to do for that?" To be frank, Tom just didn't want to deal with creating too large a sum of people, DI was already bordering on a hundred active members, it was getting too big with people not from this universe which would lead to quite a bit of questioning when nobody had ever seen or heard of any of the operatives carrying the DI's colours.

"What of La Volpe, what has he said?" Tom asked, hoping to change the subject. Ezio opened up with an answer, which was to be expected as La Volpe was his friend, "The man has said that the SPARTAN Candidates are on their second year, with Dr Halsey and some of the science team thinking about employing medigel in the augmentation procedure. However Dr Vahlen still estimates a twenty-three percent fatality rate for the augmentation process and that is only if there is a steady supply of medigel and biofoam provided to the various scarring and muscle inflammation that would no doubt take place during the operation."

Ezio looked mildly confused with the words he was saying. Try as he might Tom couldn't update some of the older characters on the latest going ons, his manipulation of human perception still extended to all of the universe and in doing so would then develop the individuals as part of this universe, which was something he was not willing to do for fear of breaking the whole universe.

"Alright then, I suppose that things are going fairly well," Tom muttered. He could feel Arc nod his head reflexively next to him, the Mandalorian always agreeing with his opinions. It was refreshing as well as infuriating, Tom was not one to take criticism lightly and in a situation like this where he knew nothing of what he was doing he would appreciate a second opinion.

 _Whatever_ , he supposed. Standing up as the truck rolled to a stop he disembarked, nodding to the HECU grunts and moving towards Dimensional Intervention Inc. office building. It looked like what you would expect, a large tower with eighty-eight floors. Copious amounts of room for Dr Vahlen and her small team of scientists as well as putting up a front for the regular citizens.

Tom was entertaining the idea of hiring, he needed some desk jockeys in the business to deal with the overflow of paperwork and categorizing the various assignments they got. It was certainly a mundane job that didn't require him spawning something. He entered the building, waved at various people who were milling about and took the elevator to the R&D Department.

Most of the building was empty, the only reason why it was huge was to give the illusion of hundreds of people working in DI. Tom had even gotten cars and placed them in the parking lot to further the lie. Felt like an easier way to explain his work when people at least thought it had an average amount of employees.

He stepped off the elevator, Ezio and Desmond having left earlier to meet with La Volpe, and was immediately set upon by Dr Vahlen, who was watching him with that same analytical smile she always wore. "Tom it's a pleasure to see you so soon, to what do we owe the pleasure?"

Dr Vahlen was certainly more amicable with him than the Commander from XCOM but he suspected it was because he didn't actually carry rank or the persona of a soldier. Dr Gordon Freeman stepped up behind her, his glasses hanging loosely on his head and hands tugging the hem of his lab coat. "Dr Vahlen, Dr Freeman. Good work on the HMS-Gun, hopefully ONI will use it during the SPARTAN project." Dr Vahlen nodded graciously while Dr Freeman only looked longingly at a stripped gun lying on a table, obviously to add and improve on.

"Now, onto other business. Arc you can tell your Mandalorians to rejoice, I've decided to make the Beskar armor a staple for DI." There was a pause from the assembled group before Arc hissed something akin to joy.

"How do you wish for us to proceed?" Vahlen asked, staring at Tom in full concentration. Tom rubbed his chin, bringing forth all of the notes he had stapled inside his mental wall.

"What's the theory that Dr Freeman suggested as an alibi for Beskar?" Tom asked.

"A reaction between several different metals in the presence of highly concentrated UV-light from the sun in space," Freeman muttered, which flew over Tom's head but sounded difficult enough that any sane government would cut their losses before too many people died.

"Right, so using that explanation we will unveil the Beskar armor as well as the Beskar itself. For obvious reasons we cannot exactly tell them how we got the metal, so we will instead sell it in the market. But cheaply and the UNSC gets a thirty percent discount, we're not here to monopolize it. Since project MJOLNIR is being conducted parallel to the SPARTAN project, hopefully, with how cheap we are selling it to the UNSC and with how opportunistic ONI is, they'll consider building the MJOLNIR armor with Beskar, after we disclose how exactly you're supposed to make armor from indestructible metal," Tom said as he looked pointedly at Arc. The Mandalorian looked uncomfortable, obviously the idea of giving up the secrets of his people didn't sit kindly with him.

"Smart idea Tom, we'll get right on it," Dr Vahlen nodded her head to a gaggle of scientists and they started walking briskly to the announcement room to probably make the news public.

"At this point pieces are going to keep moving, a lot of pieces. I'm not sure I want to introduce the idea of personal shielding yet, but it wouldn't hurt if we were hired by the UNSC to construct several ships made of Beskar as well as outfit ODSTs at the very least with armor sets should MJOLNIR be too far in development to add the metal. The Mass Effect weapons, have we been able to solve the whole Eezo problem?"

Gordon straightened his back and shook his head, "I wasn't able to completely replicate the Eezo effect on the munitions with a Halo equivalent. I think the BR-55 is our safest bet for a weapon with a Mass Accelerator designed into the weapon. For now at least the Mass Effect weapons will have to be explained with electromagnetic discharges that accelerate the bullets to the equivalent speed but that hardly matches the weapons own destructive power in the Mass Effect universe," Freeman said.

"Why not just completely discard the idea of removing Eezo completely and instead create a battery pack with a miniscule enough amount of Eezo to satisfy the discharge of the bullet?" Vahlen asked.

Freeman cupped his chin, "A power pack, with a compartmentalized Eezo area where electrical currents can move in and out. We could also place solenoids throughout the barrel to help the bullet travel faster and negate some loss in strength by the smaller Eezo compartment." Tom wasn't able to follow as well as he would like, he felt completely out of his depth just trying to listen to them.

"Alright, alright enough," Tom said finally, "If the weapons can be upgraded and sold in the market that's fine too. Just make sure they are sold specifically to the outer colonial marines, especially those in the Eridanus sector and near or around Harvest. That place has just gotten the first inkling of settlement last I checked, might as well provide some protection. Put a limit though, we still need Sergeant Johnson on Harvest as well as that ONI spook whose name evades me." Tom only had a very basic memory of Contact Harvest and hoped that he was remembering all the important bits. He remembered something about Mendicant Bias but from there on, and after the installation of several books, the lore escaped him.

"Speaking of ONI, La Volpe is still within ONI's ranks right?" At confirming nods from Arc and Vahlen Tom touched his ear and waited for a familiar voice to pipe in.

 _"Volpe here,"_ he said through the comm. Tom grinned slightly and said his own hello. "Volpe," Tom started getting down to business, "I'm sorry old friend but it looks like you're going to need to get closer to Parangosky bad side."

 _"Oh joy,"_ La Volpe said drily. _"With Desmond in Section Zero and Ezio being redeployed in New Mombasa I thought I would have nothing to do."_

"You might wish you were." Tom got a snort for a response, "Listen we're about go public with Beskar and right now we don't know exactly how much are the chances of it coming onto MJOLNIR. I want you to check and do some nudging, also loop back whatever you can get off Parangosky, makes sure the files she gets from Halsey about the candidates say nothing of Serin. Work yourself up the ranks too, soon you'll be playing babysitter for a bunch of impressionable children who got discarded by Halsey and prone to manipulation by ONI."

 _"And I thought Machiavelli was demanding,"_ he said in jest before disconnecting. Tom sighed and grinned at the two scientists.

"Now about the E-11's and the Particle Shotgun."

 **Journal Update**

2518 was starting to become a year of anxiety. Things were moving forward and I meant _forward._ The sum of all our hard work in four years was about to be shown with just how delicately we handled this situation. The company's reputation was set, while people were still skeptical over the validity of our organisation, we were still a colony name now.

Years of relief missions, pirate control and mercenary work. Public relations and making sure everyone was spit and polish for a surprise inspection at any minute.

My mom had said I lived my life like a slob, never cleaning my room or managing my activities. Just wasting the day away doing nothing but sit on the couch. But now I'm standing somewhere, there's a chance for me to help and make the world, or this world, into a better place.

The thought scared me. I didn't know if I was ready or prepared for what was to come. I was about to be embroiled in a war that lasted more than a decade, people dying and more than just a few heroics tied to its name. Would I change too much?

Would I rid people of their own accomplishments by adding the technology? But at the same time, the people I would save would no doubt put me higher in the moral spectrum.

Then, what is moral? There was moral implications of disturbing the natural way of things as well but I'm doing good. I'm the good guy! Right?

I don't know, I feel so lonely. I wish...I wish somebody else had been dropped with me. I wouldn't care how and, as selfish as it sounded, I wish he or she would be here to share the anxiety and uncertainty.

Being alone sucked.

But hey, at least I got you. A little piece of leather and paper.

Yea, I got you. But, that just meant I was crazy. Whatever, I suppose I'm merely doing whatever the person who put me here wanted. I'm stretching my powers, learning the best way to use them. I've learned the ability to affect a small bubble with information manipulation, of course as with many things I've learned it could result in an error.

If one person knowing one thing meets someone else who knows it in another way, the universe will suddenly freeze as it tried to comprehend the change. So I've decided that I'd only use this method to affect decisions and outer perception, rather than knowledge.

Was I going too far? Manipulating a man's mind with how he thinks and behaves...that didn't sound right and worst of all I'm starting to feel far too used to it. I've started to feel, _arrogance_. I don't know. There's just this small part of me that grows satisfied at the undying loyalty and the power at my fingertips.

It scares me.

It scares me even more that I acknowledged a book as my only vent out of this mess. Is this really how far I've spiralled.

For some reason I'm okay with this.

Or maybe I'm not.

Hell I don't know even know anymore!

 **Journal End**

 **if the science is wrong, forgive me.**


	5. Chapter 5

Dr Halsey swept her hand over her cluttered desk, taking a soft sip of her lukewarm coffee. She read the regular reports she always had on her desk in Sword Base, filled with minor to more important tasks.

She flipped through the files she had on her SPARTAN candidates. The year was 2523, her SPARTANs had seen at least six years of hard military training under Mendez. She noted with even more satisfaction that her favourite candidate, John, was progressing swimmingly as Squad Leader. She sipped it again and tossed the paper onto her desk, tapping the old worn desk with more burden alongside the other stacks of papers.

She rubbed her eyes, sleep didn't come naturally to her but sometimes she did feel exhausted. Grasping another file she began reading the next project that would be her priority after SPARTAN. The aptly named MJOLNIR armor system.

The armor itself had yet been created, with the funding and most of her time going into perfecting the augmentation procedure for her SPARTANs. Time was of the essence, ONI was becoming restless and they could replace her with someone less qualified...someone who cared less about her SPARTANs. She needed more time, more research, but she couldn't get that time.

MJOLNIR and SPARTAN looked so natural and definitive when she thought about them all those years ago. Maybe she should have stayed under Admiral Jeromi, he would have stood vehemently against this. But, she knew this was the most viable option that she could take.

She dropped the MJOLNIR file and grabbed a stack of papers that she had specifically pulled out of the files. One marked with red blocky lettering, 'Outside Source' from here she read the advancements of a Private Military Contractor outside of the UNSC. They were doing work that Halsey would dream of, with lesser restrictions as well.

Their new compound, Medigel was an insightful little piece of engineering. While it would seem redundant what with Biofoam being a commodity, the Medigel had so many more practical uses outside the battlefield and surgical use. Cell growth in an exponential rate, what a magnificent study.

The Beskar metal as well, she found the science behind it faulty and deduced that they were lying about it, she didn't know why though, and could only truly make educated guesses to how their metal was made. But it was astounding either way, a metal that was virtually indestructible. Many more great achievements were held under their belt.

They designed the new _Olympus-Class_ Destroyer made out of Beskar. It was large, about half the size of a Marathon with a gun underneath it being just as long. The payload of 900 ton slug at 15 000 KM/S, another revolutionary feat. It helped that with only two of these ships having been made, they already provided more than enough firepower to stem the tide of Insurrectionists and the new Beskar modified Marine armor kept soldiers alive more often than not. The armor was still very much like their previous counterparts, except now they were gunmetal grey with their helmets covering their mouths but still retaining their same basic shape.

The armor had allowed Marines to become walking covers, holding the line for UNSC forces to plow through Innie lines. In just a few short years DI had done more than the UNSCs best and brightest could never come near to.

She wondered what her SPARTAN project would be like if she had gone to the independent company. No doubt the UNSC would have had a field day with them once they heard about the very first stage of the program, which went back to her position underneath Sword Base. Sighing Halsey set the files down and stared at the ceiling.

She had gotten Parangosky, the old croony, to allow Beskar metal to be used but curiously the deciding factor was not her word but rather the word of some high up and coming ONI Officer named Thomas Volpe. She was skeptical on why he decided to assist but she would thank him once she met him.

Dimensional Intervention had also signed a deal with the UNSC, becoming a major weapons and armor factory for the UNSC, and it coincided with her request for Beskar in her armor. A great stroke of luck, or was there something more going on.

Regardless she was glad that her SPARTANs would be receiving a new layer of protection and the Innies would gain less of an advantage. She placed that file down on her desk and continued to scan through the paper, until she came down on the names stamped at the end of an impressive thesis.

Dr Vahlen and Dr Freeman as technical assistant.

Vahlen and Freeman. If the files that she had just procured from ONI's database, Dr Vahlen had a Masters in Biological Engineering and a degree in an astounding number of other sciences. Dr Freeman was a physicist with some quite impressive works under his name, alongside the new ME-1 RAR (Rapid Assault Rifle) which was quickly becoming a staple for the Marines and the Army Special Forces branch, especially the ODSTs, for its accuracy and punching power. Curious though, the ONI database had very little information about them.

That was very intriguing.

"Reading files Dr Halsey? Could have sworn you would be asleep by now," Halsey grimaced and glanced back at the rather handsome young man behind her. Desmond Miles, if she remembered right, was an ONI Officer from Section Zero and her Judge, Jury and Executioner should he deem fit. She knew from the beginning that ONI would saddle her with someone from their secret internal affairs and she was unsurprised to see a young charismatic man in the place of the fictional gruff and cold assassin that screamed murderer in her face...but she hadn't expected for the same ONI Officer to be more lenient than the latter option.

Section Zero cared for efficinecy but Desmond had it dead set in him that Halsey moved at her own pace and sometimes she would even catch him video calling another ONI Officer in New Mombasa. They looked related but Halsey wasn't one for assumptions, several times she had thought it to be a planning to get rid of her but everytime she hacked into his email (accidentally, maybe) she had only seen overall positive reviews from the Section Zero Operative

"Ma'am?" He asked, a worried expression on his face. Halsey shook her head and shot him a look of icy annoyance.

"Yes, what is it you need, Lieutenant?" She asked coldly. While she was thankful to his kenient nature, he was still ONI and you could never be too careful.

"Though I'd stop by and see how you were doing, and to also report Blue Teams successful War Game with Tango Company." Halsey hummed, a sense of pride and satisfaction welling in her chest at her SPARTANs ability.

Demond was frowning, but nonetheless didn't say anything. Again, her curiosity was peaked and asked a question that she had kept bottled up for a long time, "Tell me Lieutenant, how do you feel about the SPARTANs?" She knew he was ONI, but she at least thought that Miles might just brush it off.

"Truthfully, I don't particularly agree with it. However my own upbringing wasn't anywhere different and where I am now, I believe that sometimes you don't have a choice and sometimes you really do know what's better. But that's just how I feel anyways," Desmond said, with sincerety in his voice. Halsey was surprised but nodded her head after a moment of thought, her mind now resolved in her task.

"Yes, I do believe so as well," she agreed. Desmond nodded in acknowledgement and turned to leave. Frowning for a moment she glanced to the files on her desk as she continued to read the files.

"Dimensional Intervention...," she muttered. Maybe, she could bring in a little bit of outside help.

- **Tom** -

Tom watched as the latest shipment of PCV's were being sent off to various planets in the Core Worlds and the Outer Colonies. While the Beskar armor was to be used by the UNSC, Police Forces around UNSC space had congregated around the PCVs with colonial militias under the CMA, which while slowly losing its power in comparison to NAVCOM and UNICOM, had been able to snag the PCVs. The ones that ordered the most were the Reach and Eridanus militias, though Tom was a little bit worried of Innies getting their hands on them.

"Arc," his Mandalorian second-in-command, decked out in full Beskar armor and shining like the true warrior he was, steoped up next to him, "Where are Alpha and Bravo?"

"They're in the lounge resting up," he answered dutifully. Tom nodded and begab walking back inside his building, where the air-conditioned room felt like a hug from salvation itself comlared to Tributes hot air.

"Good, they're going to need it. In about a years time Sergeant Avery Johnson and Sergeant Nolan Byrne are going to fuck up a military operation," Tom said.

Arc tipped his head to the side, "You want them to see that it never happens?"

"Nope," Tom said, feeling and odd sense of emptiness as he said it, "Sergeant Johnson needs it to happen to him for him to be chosen by ONI to be part of the Operation that discovers the Covenant, if he's not there then most of what happens down the line is going to get really fuzzy. And I don't know how to deal with fuzzy. Unless of course it means we can drop ourselved o to High Charity and beat Truth to death. If only I can remember ehat Mendicant Bias said," Tom muttered. Arc didn't respond, letting his Mandalore deal with his thoughts on his own.

"I want Alpha and Bravo ready, with how sweet we're starting to become with the UNSC, I expect them to have some use with us. The Commandos are out because, well, they're pretty obvious thst DI is not what it seems to be. You and Manth Ma are needed for the mission against the Covenant on Harvest, when Johnson and Byrne starts their offensive. If only I can find High Charity." Tom bemoaned again.

"Why don't you spawn Mendicant Bias yourself?" Arc asked.

"Because he exists already and I don't want to see what might happen if I do that." They entered his office which was a lot less grandiose than what you would imagine a Mercenary head would be like. Just a simole mahogany desk with book shelves to his left and right and two chairs in front. Nothing out of the ordinary at all.

His ohone rang though, which made him frown. "Goddamnit," he muttered.

Stepping up to the phone Tom answered and grimaced at the familiar stocky tone on the other end. A UNSC General whom he had never seen before but knew better than a close friend.

"Wilcom," that wasn't his real name, Tom was sure of it, "What do you need me for?"

"Tom, it's good to hear you again." Tom wagged his finger at Arc who wasted no time in telling the IT team to encrypt the call.

"Am I right to assume the line is secure now?" Wilcom asked.

Tom grinned ruefully, "You know me well." There was a chuckle in the other end but it ended in a moment far too quick to be natural.

"We have a new target for you," straight to business, "Colonel Dawson, a UNSC soldier sttached to the 35th ID and has been confirmed to be a rebel sympathizer." Tom grimaced.

"You want us to kill a UNSC Colonel?!" Tom said in shock.

"A rebel sympathizer, we'll make sure that all ties of the killing to DI is completely severed and your men can walk free with a handsome reward." Tom glanced at Arc who shrugged.

"Why can't ONI do it?" Tom asked.

"Because Dawson is currently on his way towards a URF base nearby Harvest, a relatively clean colonybstill untouched by ONI, under the guise of a captured Colonel even though we knw otherwise. ONI is out of their field, their agents aren't able to best a whole URF base on their own." Tom frowned. It seemed Alpha and Bravo have a job to do now.

"What else?"

"We have a certain project we would like your science department to assist in," the man on the other end said.

Tom's heart stop. Could it be? Could they actually be asking him if...that sent his body into a cold sweat. "What kind of project?"

"ONI Section III," the man said evenly. Tom's heartbeat increase and he gripped the desk as he tried to comprehend the emotions inside him. He needed to know, the suspense would kill him otherwise.

"Name?!" He said, losing his cool, "I need a name Dawson, just to know its not a suicide mission in disguise," he hid his outburst with a sentence he supposed wasn't out of place. There was a pause on the other end, silence, before he said.

"Do you swear an oath of secrecy to the UNSC?" He asked.

Tom quickly said yes.

"The projects name is, MJOLNIR."

 **Journal Update**

Just a year two more years. Two more years where evertyhing will come to fruition.

I don't know how to feel.

I don't know what exactly I'll find at the end of these two years.


	6. Chapter 6

Johnson held himself tight against the Hornets side as it raced over the remainder of forests they had left before they reached their drop zone. The Staff Sergeant watched the charred and burned trees below him, carefully to avoid any trunks that were too high in the air, and breathed in deeply.

The UNSC SpecWar Marine was dressed in the same armor as the rest of the men around him. The pristine gunmetal grey armor had bulwarked everything that even had a chance of becoming a weak spot. His head completely encased with a white helmet that had a wide triangular mirror-like visor.

The Hornet shook and as it crested a hill Avery was able to see his squads objective. A struggling industrial settlement on Tribute, and a possible location of a URF bomb shop. The man had already started on checking his weapons by the time the Hornet pilot had winked the 'Ready' icon on his HUD. The Sergeant ignored it and went to work on doing the standard preparatory checks on his weapon. Slapping in magazines, pulling back charging handles and switching the safety off - the sounds of his check dying out against the passing turbulence.

The Hornets thrusters tipped backwards, steadying the aircraft, and Avery quickly unclipped himself and rappelled down onto the surface of Tribute. He landed with a heavy thud and raced across the expanse of space ahead of him. As the leader of Alpha squad he needed to set a grueling pace for his men, to ensure that they reached the bomb shop undetected as their armor stood out against the dawn light. Johnson was glad that Beskar armor was light, if not then by the time he and his men had reached the door they would have been severely winded.

Avery sent a burst of static through the marines COMM. line and waited for Byrne to send over his own. The marines all waited, Avery readying his ME-1 RAR for the right moment. A two burst static message went through his helmet and the young Sergeant pulled back and kick the door down. His marines followed behind him, resembling gray crabs hurling themselves into a fishing net.

The Innies inside turned on them with submachine guns and rifle fire. Ever since the UNSC started getting more toys, so did the URF employed bigger numbers and more weapons. His marines ducked under cover and Avery swung his weapon around and fired at an Innie staring wide-eyed at the spectacle.

The ME-1 tore into the Innie, ripping chunks of flesh off and sending it straight through. The man crashed into a table behind him, arms outstretched and twitching in phantom pain. From out of his hand a small cylindrical tube crashed against the floor, a self-destruct weapon the Innies used. Typical.

His marines then opened fire, discarding cover as they had concluded the weapons ammunition could not compromise their suits, the UNSC marines marched forward and eliminating them. By the time the last Innie was shot down, it had only been one and a quarter minute since Avery had entered.

"Hell," Byrne's voice said over the Comms, "We didn't even change our magazines." Johnson ignored him and pulled out his Argus, searching for anything that might resemble a bomb. His other men began rounding up the live Insurrectionists, with Byrne keeping management over them.

The Argus was clicking rapidly as they tried to find a anything that resembled a new mix of an explosive. Johnson frowned, the ME-1's didn't discharge chemicals to launch the bullet so any chemical contamination from their guns were out of the question. It must have been from the Insurrectionists end. With that being said, finding the bomb now would lengthen the operation time as they waited for the chemical to dissipate. "Argus is blind. Please advise, over."

The TOC was silent for a moment before the commanding officer relayed, "ONI thinks the ordinance is at play," Lieutenant Colonel Abiom said, "Take the gloves off Johnson, my authorization."

Johnson looked to Byrne who gathered the Innies together into the room. Nodding his head Byrne raised his foot and slammed it down onto the nearest Innies leg. It snapped, like a ceramic place, and the man screamed out at the top of lungs. When he ended Byrne questioned him but all he got was rebellious silence. That landed another broken leg and the Innie toppled to the ground as he couldn't support himself anymore.

"Next is your arms," Byrne said, turning the Innies head so he was looking at him, "Then I get creative." The last hiss was enough to break him and the Innie gurgled out the answer.

The tires. His men quickly went to check but Johnson knew that the Innies were smarter than that and deduced that the tires were the bombs. A scan with the Argus confirmed it and the officer in charge was pleased with how well it was going. Then the officer came back in to warn them of another set of bomb wheels, with the driver in a small Jim Dandy restaurant.

They were ordered to keep the Innie that was interrogated alive and the rest were executed where they sat. The man fell back and Byrne did a double check to make sure they stayed dead. With their dirty deed done Byrne and Johnson alongside their squads took off on their Hornets, flying fast through the volcanic plains as they continued to climb and climb.

Avery's Hornet stopped above an office building in front of the Jim Dandy and the Staff Sergeant rappelled down while grabbing a Stanchion Gauss-rifle from the Horners side compartment. Setting up the long twin-linked metal tubed gun, Avery sighted in on the Innie at the Jim Dandy's restaurant. They had moved faster than anticipated and the man was still eating a hearty meal, his coffee close to lukewarm but still good enough for a couple more sips.

Johnson couldn't take the shot, the bullet would ricochet off and hit an innocent bystander if he were to. "No shot, too many civilians." Johnson said. Byrne clicked an affirmative on the other end and before long Bravo Squad was racing through the parking lot, their Beskar armor glinting under the morning light.

They slammed through the Jim Dandy's restaurant doors, making the assembled diners and waitresses gawk at the heavily armored marines in the restaurant. Byrne growled when the Innie turned around in horror at the marines and reached for a pistol in his coat but the marine knew better than to fire in public and, due to the lightweight of his armor, raced forward to wrench the weapon out of his hand. His other marines twisted around and grabbed the other man's hand while the rest of Bravo checked the stool.

Avery watched silently on his rooftop, keeping a close eye on his HUD for more bomb residue like the Innie was showing. "There's a bomb still in the restaurant," Avery said. One of Byrne's men stomped towards the counter and kicked the stool away. He pulled up from his crouch with a purse in hand, the Argus going completely wild at its existence.

"Found it," he yelled in triumph but there was an odd tone to it. Why would a male truck driver Insurrectionist be carrying a purse with him. From where Avery sat, he was able to see a woman in her mid-thirties step out of the bathroom. She balked when she saw the marines and Byrne had thought he to be another civilian.

He told her not too worry, perhaps a little bit forcefully, and she dove towards the nearest end of the restaurant, hefting a young boy as she ran and spinning around to reveal a gun cocked and loaded against his temple. There was also a cylindrical tube in her hand, showing that the bomb that Byrne's men had found had the potential chance to blow up.

While Avery had marveled at their new armor and how much damage it could take, Avery wasn't about to test it on an explosive, especially not one that the Innies made. It could have acid in it, or perhaps it was design to cook the marines in their armor rather than outright blow them up.

The situation dissolved into chaos as the civilians raced to their feet and rushed out the door. Byrne was pushed back from the oncoming horde, he and his men unable to get a proper shot on the woman as she gripped the young boy tighter.

"Johnson take the shot!" Byrnes yelled into the Comm. line. Avery felt sweat form at his fingertips, his shoulders tensing as he tried to zero in on the woman. He tried to stabilise his posture but no matter what he did the only angle he could manage would lead to several dead people.

"Johnson either you take the shot or I will!" Byrne warned over the radio. Avery knew what he meant, the other Sergeant would shot the girl regardless of the child hostage in ber grasp. Avery panicked and tightened his grip on his rifle, "Firing," Avery muttered lowly but he was still adjusting his aim.

"Firing," he mumbled again, trying to stave off Byrnes from shooting. His shot was still lining up, and just as it seemed like he had her in his crosshairs, the father of the young boy lurched forward and grabbed the woman. He pushed her onto the ground, the boy sandwiched in between them, and Byrne decided that was his time to intervene. The Irish Sergeant rushed forward, batting away anyone that blocked his path, and grappled both the civilian and the Innie.

Avery readjusted his sight to take in the spectacle. Hissing as Byrne physically ripped the father off the woman and reached down the grab her. It looked like that would be the end of it but then the next thing Avery could see was a blinding white light. It filled his vision, burning his retina as he pullef away from the scope. Heat flashed across his face and he fell backwards onto his back, the force rattling his head inside his helmet.

The he groaned and the dominant sound that he heard for the next five minutes was a Hornet trying to stabilize itself in the sir. Resembling a haunting scream than of jets working to keep themselves in the sky.

- **Vahlen** -

Dr Vahlen smiled as she worked on the MJOLNIR project with Dr Halsey. The other scientific woman was rather icy and respected the solitude of a lab more than the presence of company, which made her someone that Vahlen could get used to. But it was her intellect that made Vahlen succumbed to respect, as she demonstrated several times of having the capacity to outwit even her in the scientific field.

But for all her ingenuity, Vahlen still noted the look of shock and surprise as she and Dr Freeman showed off their additions to the MJOLNIR armor besides the Beskar metal. A built-in jack pack, lacking the rockets used by the Mandalorians but still no less useful. Grenade launchers fixed into the gauntlets of the suit, able to switch to a small knife that vibrated so fast it could cut through steel without issue and an integrated PVC undersuit adding secondary as well as tertiary layer of protection underneath the suit.

But that was not all, Dr Freeman was able to add a redundant crystallin layer underneath the PVC armor over the already existing layer. This new layer did not increase the soldiers reflexes, rather it acted as a conducting material for Eezo, making the suit lighter and 'venting' the excess heat through the reactor where he had secretly installed a heat sink modifier. Halsey didn't know the full details on the layer but she seemed satisfied when they tested it out using a robotic test dummy.

Speaking relatively, the already advanced power suit became a far more deadlier weapon, capable of turning a skilled SPARTAN into a one man country, if he wanted to that is.

The suit had its drawbacks but Vahlen was satisfied that it would not endanger the lives of the SPARTANs as Tom had instructed both her and Freeman.

"The suit had exceeded expectations even before being put to use," Halsey muttered next to her. Freeman was off conversing with the various 'Dumb' AIs around the base, finding out more and more about whatever top secret files on weapons and design he could steal. Vahlen doubted he would get anything.

"Many things exceed the expectations of those that create them, that is what it means to be a scientist after all," Vahlen replied, storing the now completed suit design into a folder.

"A very philosophical view I did not expect from you," Halsey commented.

"We all carry our signified traits, mine however was never moral implications, that was more reserved to my other colleague. And Dr Freeman," Vahlen heard a shotgun go off behind her, "He's more of a scientific soldier than anything else."

Halsey chuckled and the prototype MJOLNIR suit was placed into cold storage lockdown.

- **Tom** -

The young man stapled his fingers together, tapping his foot impatiently on the ground. He had just heard the news, a terrible accident where 38 civilians were killed, seven injured, and five critically wounded marines. Those nearest the explosion were almost baked inside their armor while the one furthest, who Tom noted gratefully to be Staff Sergeant Byrnes, would be facing a few months in a hospital.

Tom wondered if events had changed and whether or not Byrnes would still hold a grudge against Johnson. Maybe they will but if the books were anything to go by, it wouldn't matter. Alpha and Bravo had been sent off to Harvest, Tom knowing that damage was more preferable than anything else and the two Mercenaries knew explosions.

The Mandalorians were to prepare alongside the Commandos, they had the job of going to war with the Covenant once everything goes full swing. The HECU were to be on standby if they needed any help, but Tom doubted it.

Ezio and Desmond were starting to head into full gear. As Ezio was on Earth and in New Mombasa, he had the clearest route to UNSC Sydney HQ while Desmond was in Section Zero, a position even Admiral Parangosky had to be wary of. La Volpe was still nudging for more Beskar armor and upgraded weapons.

Tom had it planned that if the war lasted more than four years, he would unveil the Blasters from star wars and if it traveled further, all the XCOM weapons he could remember. He would be ready to meet the Covenant head on if needed.

Tom sighed behind his desk and looked strangely at the ground. There was a Blaster pistol on his hip, something he wasn't used to having but Arc had been able to get him to at least train with it.

Tom suddenly grew a margin of respect for the Stormtroopers with just how _fucked_ the aiming was on the thing.

Tom checked his watch and nodded his head, remembering one particular scene from Contact Harvest which was the clearest out of all his memories, and that was only due to the fact it was in a strip club. Teenagers man.

"Arc," Tom said and the Mandalorian glanced down at him from where he stood at the back of the office, "We're going to a _class_ establishment!"

And no, he was not going there for fun.

Well, he was sure Arc would find it fun.

 **-2 Hours Later-**

"Why are we in a strip club?" Arc muttered as they entered the establishment. When he entered the club, the man at the counter had requested the Mandalorian to leave his weapon. Tom had just flashed more than just a little credits he had misplaced to allow Arc inside with some of his more concealed weapons while all the other weapons were left at their car.

The Mandalorian didn't quite look uncomfortable with the idea of a strip club, rather he seemed more disturbed with how many women tried to give him a lap dance _while he was in full body armor._

"This place is trying to steal my money," Arc grumbled. Tom just shook his head for the man to be quiet and before long the male was able to catch his object of desires. A young redheaded woman, freckles across her face and a lazy smile on as she gave patronage to a darkly skinned man sitting in marine dress blues.

Tom gestured his head towards the man and Arc stepped up, "Is that the war hero that's going to play a part in toppling a whole Covenant of alien species," he said frowning.

"In the future, right now he's just a man disillusioned with a war and his duty as a soldier," Tom explained. Arc nodded his head, as a soldier he could probably relate to the idea more. A bouncer moved in to try and get Johnson to pay more, for what Tom couldn't remember.

Tom gestured for Arc to follow and stepped in between the bouncer and Johnson. The big burly man frowned heavily at the two intruders and Tom noticed how the redhead grew guarded, a troubled frown on her face.

"Who are the two of you?!" He muttered angrily. Tom raised an eyebrow and Arc stepped forward while crossing his arms, showing everyone in the room just how much larger the man was compared to all of them. While the bouncer had girth, Arc had height and Beskar armor to play with.

Not only that but the Dimensional Intervention logo, which was a swirling portal with a man sitting inside leisurely, was painted on his chest, in complete view for everyone to see. The man's eyes nearly bulged out of his sockets.

"I'm sure our friend here doesn't want you ruining his fun," Tom said.

"Why don't you _**back**_ off," Arc finished for him. The bouncer gulped and glanced at the girl, who was now worried as she glanced between all three of them. The male nodded and quickly turn to leave and the two DI mercenaries turned to sit down on the seats next to Johnson.

"Thanks," Johnson said, "But I could have handled it."

"Marines can handle everything, but a war is taxing to fight on your own," Tom commented as he sipped on coffee, staring disgustedly at the alcohol. He wasn't a drinker.

Avery made a grumbling noise as he downed a cup of gin, the girl now changing her routine on the stripper pole to accommodate three men sitting at her table. Arc only glanced passingly while Tom occasional spied at her while talking to Johnson. What! He'd been in the universe for years and the only female he spoke to was Vahlen!

"I'm sure you know who we are?" Tom asked.

"Of course I do, you built most of the new equipment the UNSC is shelving out." A comfortable silence followed that as Avery finished his next cup and Arc had to deal with the attention of the girl.

After a moment Tom said, "I know who you are Sergeant Johnson." The man glanced at him from over his tipped cup, his eyes narrowed to slits in suspicion. "I know what happened at the Jim Dandy restaurant, of course everyone else knew about it too." Tom brushed it off smoothly and Johnson took that in stride.

"What do you want," Johnson asked. Tom looked down at his feet before gripping Avery's shoulder, the younger male carrying a reassuring look in his eye.

"DI always work to help as many extraordinary people as they can. You Sergeant Johnson are one such person," Tom said in reply. The other man's face morphed into skepticism followed by a strong look of incredulity. Tom only smiled and stood up, tossing a credit chip to the girl on the table. "Give my friend here a good night." She winked at him and moved off stage to sit down with Johnson.

"And you, here's my card, if you need anything just call me. DI may have cutting edge research facilities but we started out in dangerous Merc work. Need a hand out there just call, I can deal with UNSC HIGHCOM if they have a problem with mercenaries helping UNSC troops." Johnson took the offered card gingerly, his hand swaying as he slowly drifted off from being sober.

But he did have one last coherent sentence, "Who are you anyways?"

Tom grinned, "I'm Tom Brieler, the Head of Dimensional Intervention and the man that started it all." Johnson spit out his drink, drowning the redhead in beer as she reeled back in surprise. But she was a professional and she only used her now sticky body as an advantage.

Tom heard the camera installed into Arcs helmet click on. "Don't judge me," the Mandalorian grumbled as he pivoted and left towards the exit. Tom grinned and followed; giving the bouncer from before a middle finger before he exited.


	7. Chapter 7

Al-Cygni waited with bated breath as she tracked a vessel nearing the freighter she commandeered from Sif. Like with all things the ONI Lt. Commander watched everything with a pragmatic and mindful gaze, checking the ship's movements and maintaining constant vigil.

From her instruments she could spy both of of Sergeant Johnson's and Sergeant Byrne's position in the cargo hold of the freighter, their faint IFF signature kept low to stop any Insurrectionist equipment from detecting them. But those two weren't the ones she kept close tabs on, it was the two mercenaries that had been attached to her mission.

They called themselves Alpha and Bravo, both of them having came from Dimensional Intervention. Al-Cygni had been surprised when a Commander Volpe, who was privy to her mission details, had assigned two mercenaries under her. She questioned him on why, and the man replied that it was to think two marines, SpecWar or not, could deal with a whole Innie boarding party.

She questioned the mercenaries, and Volpe answered that they could not recall any more troops from TREBUCHET and that Dimensional Intervention has shown time and time again their patriotism as well as their loyalty to the UNSC. He even added that DI was the only Mercenary Company that gave the UNSC a discount, which contrary to what you might think, was a big deal.

Al-Cygni surrendered to the man, allowing the two absurdly dressed mercenaries topped with stylized Kevlar masks to join her in her mission. Though she could respect them for their skill and record, as ONI she had read many reports on her desk from the many oddball mercenaries that DI employed. Alpha and Bravo were the more famous ones just because of how much damage they could do.

For a fleeting moment she conceded to Commander Volpe that he had indeed chosen the best pair.

- **Johnson** -

Johnson gripped the support struts on the cargo holds ceiling's tightly. He firmed his grip on the BR-55, wrapping the bulky gloves over the barrel of the weapon as he tried manoeuvre across zero-gee. Byrne was to his right, kicking his leg beneath him in a vain attempt to steady himself.

Their two heavy duty suits were unfortunately not made up of Beskar, something Avery would have liked to have in the current situation, but instead it was a modified PCV that covered his entire body with a sealed helmet. The reason as to why Johnson was wishing for better armor was because of just what had entered the cargo hold from the umbilical chord that had been attached to the ship.

Large reptilian creatures with an avian like appearance ran onto his ship, dressed up in the same exact kind of bulky suit as Byrne and Johnson was. The two aliens carried some strange pink knife and Byrne was quietly cursing as they watched the aliens move.

Behind the reptiles, Johnson could see Alpha and Bravo sticking onto the ground using some unseen equipment. They were positioned in cover behind a loose gaggle of crates and the one named Alpha, carrying an M4-1 CAR which was the carbine version of the ME-1 RAR, was waving his head to Johnson.

He made several gestures and Avery nodded. "Ma'am?" Avery asked through the COMM. channel, "There are hostiles in the ship."

"Eliminate them," Al-Cygni said tersely. Avery winced, he had been ordered to maintain radio silence.

"They're not human," Johnson clarified as he lightly pushed himself along the support beams so that he was directly above the aliens.

There was a pause and then she asked about descriptions. Johnson tried his best but he didn't join the Corp for his descriptive writing. "Ma'am, I need orders," Avery urged as the aliens were getting closer and closer to his position.

"Kill them, but capture one alive if you can. Not one of them is to leave the ship however!" Johnson nodded his head and snapped his rifle up. The apparent leader of the group, he guessed it was the leader, was walking back towards their alien ship on the umbilical cord. He pulled the trigger and was shocked to find himself being pushed by the unexpectedly heavy recoil.

Avery's shot miss wide with one hitting the body. The Staff Sergeant flew backwards and impacted against the wall, his PCV activating and taking most of the blow.

"I'll deal with the one still inside the ship," Bravo, one of the two mercenaries said as he got up and raced towards the thing that Avery shot. The Sergeant was about to caution him but before he could Byrne had opened fire at an alien rushing towards him with its knife drawn. The two of them locked their weapons against each other, the alien pushing hard against Byrnes gun and the marine holding back for as good as he could.

Johnson swung his weapon around as another one of the lines kicked off the ground and swam towards him. But one of the mercenaries, Alpha, had jumped forward and set his weapon around the things neck. It squawked before the man crushed it's windpipe with a brutal twist of his gun.

"Bravo keep that one alive!" Alpha commanded. Avery bit his bottom lip, what moment of suspicion he had at spotting two members of the same PMC group that he had met in the stripper bar was drowned out by his battle instincts. Avery brought his weapon up and steadied his feet against the support beam before firing at another alien that was trying to escape.

A bullet clipped its right arm, then the back of its neck and before long a third bullet crashed into its spine and instantly killed it. Johnson turned around saw the alien creature slam it's pink knife down onto Byrnes leg. The marines grimaced but pulled it out and thanks to the compartmentalization of the suit, a yellow foam started forming around the breach.

The alien squawked and flailed its arms in the air and Avery thought it was trying to get its sword back but the movement was too erratic. Then he noticed the knife glow and knew why he was running, "Byrne ditch the knife!" Avery warned.

Byrne quickly slammed the pink crystal into the things gut and twisted before kicking the thing away. It tried to pull the thing out of its body but Byrne had buried it to deep. The next thing to happen was a splatter against the wall.

"One last!" Alpha said and Johnson turned around to see him pointing his weapon to an Alien that Byrne had shot. There was a clip underneath its shoulder while another near its gut. It looked at Alpha with one unblinking eye and the mercenary fired, ripping the thing apart.

Johnson then slowly descended onto the ground, aiming his weapon towards the ship in order to wait for Bravo to return with the alien or something else.

- **Bravo** -

The man was huffing as he brought his gun around in a wide arc. While training to be an Enforcer wasn't up to par with military training he was still a force to be reckon with if you gave him a shotgun and that was what he had.

The particle shotgun was lean and sleek little girl that the techies in Dimensional Intervention had saw fit to give him. Damn straight! Nobody knew a shotgun better than him.

Bravo tossed those thoughts aside as he clambered around the ship. He turned a corner and caught sight of something moving around the bend of the corner, and if intel was right; that was an Engineer.

Bravo contemplated capturing them, as they were apparently hostages for the covenant as anything else. But thought better of it. He twisted around and met another creature, this one having limped its way back towards him. The creature squawked and opened fire, but the PCV hardened on impact, sucking up the heat and pressure fantastically well.

Bravo used his mag-boots and sprinted down the corridor, slamming his shoulder into the jackals beak, snapping the head backwards. Then he brought the butt of his shotgun up and slapped it across the things head, making it fall backwards.

That was done and he turned towards where he had spotted the Engineer. His employer, Tom, couldn't remember exactly what had happened that allowed the transmission to go through and bring in Maccabeus, that was a disconcerting thought. If he didn't know that Bravo would be hard-pressed to find anything to show in the alien hunk of junk.

But in the books the ship mistress had been able to detonate the ship, in this however Bravo had managed to stop her before she could. He nodded placatingly to himself; _better than nothing._

He reached down and grabbed the thing before tossing it over his shoulder. He entered the bridge for just a minute to make sure everyone was dead and spoke into the COMM. "I captured it alive! But a few managed to get away in an escape pod. Al-Cygni did you catch anything?"

Al-Cygnu replied with a negative and Bravo grimaced.

Dadab would provide a source of intel and inspiration for Maccabeus, he needed to die. To add to this, Tartarus needed to die as well. Tom had spoken no direct ill to the current Chieftain, only the more zealous and impotent nutjob in their ranks. He was more likely to not understand his faith was the mutterings of Truth, if the San'shyuum had already destroyed Mendicant Bias.

 _If we can turn Macabeus before Truth publicly declares Humanity as a blight on their sacred religion, then that's one less troublesome group. But the Brutes are primal creatures that will latch onto any form of civilization. The best we need is an Elite, or Sangheili, but a start is a start. Lighter than some also had peace offerings, if memory served right, Maccabeus could get around to that too if Dadab actually translated right and Maccabeus understood just_ _who_ _those humans are._ Bravo remembered the briefing. They were to cause hell on _Rapid Conversion_ and her crew if they decide to attack the colony but right now peace came first.

That was more Alpha's style anyways. Bravo hefted the alien up and walked towards the other ship. "Don't shoot! Friendly!" He stepped out to see Johnson huddled nearby Byrne and Alpha policing the crystal blades from the aliens.

"What do you got?" Alpha asked, "Besides the aliens?" Bravo passed the thing over to Johnson and smiled as he thanked the air-tight seams on his Kevlar mask.

"How about an alien ship with laser systems?" Bravo said.

Alpha nodded approvingly.

- **Boss** -

"Our main objective is to find Halo," Tom instructed them. The Commandos stood roughly on the gangplank of the pelican they were situated in. They were dressed in their Republic Commando Mark-III Katarn-Class armors. The Commandos were a lot like they were in the games, prideful and effective, two very different emotions a clone commando had.

Tom had thought about bringing in Omega Squad, but he thought Atin would be too much trouble with his love for the Jedi female. He nodded to Delta squad and passed a chip to the Boss. "Maccabeus is one thing, but we need to find Halo _before_ the Covenant does. Unfortunately the coordinates to Halo is housed in a rock on Cote d'Azur, and as much power as I had, I can't exactly just swoop in and demand a rock." Tom explained.

"Do you want us to steal it, sir?" Scorch asked, sitting down uncomfortably in his armor.

Tom nodded, "We're diverging from canon Halo storyline. The rock must be taken at all haste to deny the Covenant right to Installation 04. And to keep the Flood on that specific Halo ring from escaping. Best to add is Guilty Spark, _I'll_ deal with that poorly understood megalomaniac." The Commandos glanced at each other but nodded their heads.

"Good," Tom said, "Now jump." The back of the pelican opened up and Boss quickly ordered his men through. Sev was the first out the door, followed by Fixer and Scorch who did a roll in the air. Boss followed soon after and they were falling towards the ground.

It was dark out on Cote d'Azur, but the flourescent lights on their sky gave a soft glowing texture to their streets. Boss thought it looked pretty but was woken by the ringing of his suits sensors. "Pull!" He ordered and he thumbed a release switch on his thigh. The suit responded and thrusters turned on, slowing Boss' descent as he crashed to the ground in a duck-and-roll. The rest of the squad already on the ground.

The streets were empty, barely anyone there and the Clone Commandos set off in a brisk pace. They stuck close to the walls, weapons aimed at the windows and set to stun. Orders were orders and clones never disobeyed orders.

Boss checked down a street, satisfied that the coast was clear, and gestured for Scorch and Fixer to make their way towards the museum. Sev glanced at Boss who ordered him onto one of the rooftops overlooking the whole expanse of space. "Eyes on the sky, Delta," he ordered. His brother nodded and climbed the building.

Nodding Boss took off down the path where Fixer was disabling the alarm system. "This is a remote access but I can only take down the rudimentary security. There's a power box at the basement that I can read on my sensors, that would probably take out all the other automated alarm systems. Stuff like cameras and pressure sensors," Fixer explained. Boss nodded and waited for the clone to finish.

There was a cry of triumph and the door clicked open. Boss quickly push through, his DC-17m blaster at the ready and making wide arcs across the open room. There was no security guard at the desk, which meant that there was someone walking around who could potentially catch sight of them. "Scorch take point," Boss ordered.

They leapfrogged across the room, their weapons raised and watching their corners at all times. They passed a pillar, leading to a large open room and there was a marked door that said 'Basement'.

"Do we go in?" Scorch asked.

Boss shook his head, "We weren't ordered to be stealthy, drop an EMP grenade down the door and wait," he instructed.

"I don't think Tom is going to like that," Fixer muttered, "Or Arc if Tom doesn't like it."

Scorch shivered, the Mandalorian had always freaked him out. The demolitions expert moved towards the door and tossed an EMP into the room. He hugged the wall and both Boss and Fixer crouched.

There was only a short sizzling sound that was heard before the few lights that illuminated the room darkened. A blanket of darkness covered everything and there was a cry of alarm from down the hall.

Boss immediately triangulated from where it came from and ordered Scorch to deal with the man. "Remember, stun not kill," Boss repeated. The former Republic Commando nodded and stalked off.

Boss watched him go before turning on the Night Vision setting on his helmet. His vision turned green, the helmet absorbing as much light as it could to allow him to see in the night.

And his prize sat snugly at the center of the room. Fixer quickly moved towards the case and proceeded to cut it open using a laser knife. While that happened Boss heard a loud _thunk_ followed by Scorch returning with his DC-17m attached to his back.

Scorch shrugged at him, _What are you gonna do?_ and took a place next to the two Commandos. A moment later Fixer hissed something foul as the glass dropped onto the ground, breaking into tiny pieces. He grimaced as Boss stared disapprovingly at him and the Clone quickly snatched the stone out of its case.

"Alright, we lea-"

 _Boss,_ Sev's voice cut in, _there are police cars on their way. I can hear the sirens._ Boss cursed and looked at Scorch who shook his head as though it wasn't him.

 _How_ , was what Boss thought then he heard shuffling and turned around to see another security guard, hands gripping an M6 Service Pistol, shakily aiming at the three laeger Commandos. "Stop right there!" He yelled.

"Fierfek!" Fixer cursed and Boss dropped to a knee, firing at the men with three bursts.

"Delta _shift_ it!" Boss ordered. They quickly made their way towards the back entrance, knowing that the front would be suicide. Boss thumbed his COMM. line and ordered Sev ro slow the cops down.

 _Roger_ , he replied.

- **Sev** -

The sniper eased his breath and finger his weapons trigger. The police cars were starting to become visible in the low light. The Clone Commando shifted his position so that he had a clear view of the street and opened fire. The first bolt was set to lethal and blew out the tires of the first car, causing it to stumble onto its side and crash into the sidewalk.

The other policemen ignored their down fellow except for one which stopped next to the wreck. Bullets slammed against Sev's cover and the Commando was thankful that the men didn't have PCVs on, if they did his stun shots would be less effective. He clicked his trigger twice, one shot slammed into the cars engines, a blast of ion that disrupted the cars electronics and the next shot hit a cop leaning out his window to get a shot.

But the vehicles were much faster than Sev's trigger finger and reached the museum. The police officer jumped out of their cars and a portion of their men took cover to open fire on Sev. Bullets pinged off his Katarn armor and the Commando was forced to take cover.

The Commando glanced over his cover and cursed as he saw police officers storming the building. He guessed he had accelerated the process when he started firing, should have held back a little more.

Boss came up on the COMM. informing him that they were outside but were caught in a deadlock between the officers on the streets. The sniper followed his squad leader's beacon and found them huddled behind a pillar, looking up at him. _Shake them off_ , Boss ordered.

Sev nodded and lobbed grenades onto the street. They sparked with electricity and then lashed out with long tendrils of energy that shocked most of the police officers nearby. The ones who had flanked the museum funneled towards the building and tried to keep Sev ducked but taking the hits on his armor Sev fired three times, knocking down to cops and stunning the leg of another.

The police officers scattered and it allowed the Commandos behind cover to lay waste on their backs. Scorch fired continuously into their ranks, even taking double shots on those on the ground. Boss made a hand signal and Sev quickly jumped down from the building, landing with a hard thud as he rolled onto his back. His legs screamed at him but he toughened up and raced down to meet his squad.

They formed up and took off down the street, not looking back as they disappeared into the night.

- **Manth Ma** -

The female Mandalorian double checked her weapons, making sure that her EE-3 Carbine Blaster rifle was working at peak efficiency. She glanced to her Second-in-Command Stylin who was doing the same.

The Mandalorians were preparing, ready to do some pain. Just the other day Tom had met with UNSC HIGHCOM and negotiated a deal. The UNSC would allow Dimensional Intervention right to build warships, manned by personnel the UNSC would deem fit (most likely former UNSC Navy) and Dimensional Intervention would provide their services to the UNSC at a larger discount, utilizing some of their more skilled operatives, mainly the Mandalorians.

Dr Vahlen had disappeared but Tom had reassured Manth Ma, who was the head of DI Personnel Security, that she was fine and on loan to the UNSC. Dr Freeman was at the office and had made several modifications to her jetpack and her Carbine Rifle, taking a page out of the DC-17m and giving it a spread function that allowed it to be used like a shotgun, of course these were particle base.

The _Olympus_ -Class destroyer that Dimensional Intervention had finished constructing purred to life. Manth Ma glanced at the command crew, half of them were from DI, which meant that they weren't from this universe, while the other half was UNSC personnel. The native Officers were already used to the exotic controls of the Olympus and the ones who came from _outside_ had enough experience with them already.

The _Olympus_ -Class Destroyer, named _Nightmare_ , was equipped with a MAC gun, lined with Eezo so that it could fire bigger and heavier projectiles, and had a trench filled with AA guns at its top, bottom and sides. Hangar bays laid at the sides of its belly where _Casper_ -Class Space Superiority Fighters were being manned by their pilots, again half former UNSC and half non-natives.

The _Casper-_ class was a cross from the X-wings in her world and the torrents used by Clone Pilots in the clone wars. Sleek and small, they were much more nimble than the Longsword fighter jets. This allowed them to be housed in greater numbers on ships and played hell on logistics.

The _Olympus_ ' and _Caspers_ had earned a staple mark on the UNSC navy and were fielded more and more often in fleets. While the UNSC expended great effort and money to field most of its Paris-Class and Marathon-Class ships with Beskar, the Olympus and Caspers came ready made and there was a total of fourteen Olympus and more than four dozen squadrons of Caspers now being used by the UNSC.

"All systems are go, Ma'am," the officer manning science informed, "Where to Ma'am?"

Manth Ma breathed in deeply and said, "Eridanus secundus, we're going after _that bastard_ Colonel Robert Watts."

- **Vahlen** -

"I think you're SPARTANs are doing well," Vahlen commented. Halsey nodded her head silently, tapping away at a series of tablets splayed out on her desk. "When do you plan on having the augmentation procedure?"

The other scientists paused, looking Vahlen pointedly but the other scientists met it evenly. "When their at least sixteen," Halsey commented. "But even then I think that their bodies wouldn't be as susceptible to the augmentations." Halsey frowned in worry.

Vahlen found her morality, warming. It was a strange thing to say but she knew that in her time with XCOM her decision had been questioned by her older engineering counterpart. Be had never relented from her more ambiguous suggestions and she truly believed that, for science and for humanity, her decision were true.

She couldn't remember much from her time but she was sure in this fact. But Halsey was different, she had a brilliant mind and while her social skills needed more tact (but let's face it all scientists had that problem) she was, deep down, someone with a good heart.

"Hopefully we'll be able to make everything get around smoothly," Vahlen said as she set aside her tablet. "Is this Serin?"

Halsey glanced to what she was pointing out and nodded her head when she saw the file. "Yes, she has a very bright mind though she retains much of her instincts from her days as a street rat. She steals leftovers from the other SPARTANs, John likes to tease her because of it."

"Ah, I see," Vahlen said she tagged her image in her mind and read through her file in an impressive speed. Mentally pinning the information she was resolved to relay the information La Volpe, who had been promoted to Commander of Section III, so that he could get better acquainted to Serin should the augmentations fail to register to her.

"The augmentations, what not perform regular gene therapy's before operating on them? Slowly introduce minor augmentations onto their bodies before injecting the augmentations. It will reduce the rate of rejection and ensure less casualties," Vahlen commented.

Halsey blinked before clicking on a PA COM and said, "Master Chief, please bring the recruits to the medical bay for a checkup."

Vahlen raised an eyebrow, "Checkup?"

Halsey smiled, "My SPARTANs love checkups."


	8. Chapter 8

Alpha kept his hands steady. 1/A, the Colonial Militia that he, Bravo and the two Sergeants had been working non-stop to train were standing in a neat row of two lines next to him. Bravo was at the botanical gardens, keeping an eye of the horizon with Jenkins and another recruit.

Johnson was to the side, he had his BR-55 over his shoulder and he was wearing Beskar armor, painted bright grey in comparison to its previous sandy brown appearance. Al-Cygni had wished to appear as spit and polished as possible instead of looking like they were prepared to go to war, which they were.

Alpha was unsure of what exactly caused the confrontation between the humans and the Covenant on Harvest, what he did know however was it involved a lot of bad mistakes taking place. The mercenary tapped his Kevlar mask and then the PCV that was fastened over his chest, the man preferring this over Beskar as it fit with his more unconventional way of fighting. Most of the recruits had PCVs as well with each carrying an ME-1 RAR and the two sharpshooters had a BR-55.

Alpha glanced at the trees, seeing as that was where 2/A was currently waiting, prepared to get out and start firing at any alien that would so much as glance wrongly. Alpha felt reassured about that and glanced at Avery when he saw the Staff Sergeant talk to his COMM.

Alpha straightened his back when he heard the whine of anti-grav lifts in the distance. He turned to the horizon and saw the clouds part to allow an alien dropship, a _covenant_ dropship, near the gardens. Alpha watched the sleek purple troop carrier near the 'X' marked at the garden's center. He frowned beneath his Kevlar mask and realised that the thing needed far more space.

"Everybody get back!" Alpha warned as Avery did the same. The men glanced at each other before none too gracefully began moving backwards, hands gripping the men on their side as they tried to steady themselves. The grass began swaying away from the ship as an invisible force pushed down on everything below it.

Alpha grimaced and took a step back, making sure his hands was gripping his M4-1 CAR tightly to keep it from getting blow away. When the ship finally settled and the force lightened, Avery quickly ordered everyone back to their places.

Alpha glanced up at the bottom of the ship, where a hatch opened up to reveal three large gorillas jumping down from the bottom of the ship. _Brutes,_ Alpha thought, _they smell worse than the Cartel_.

The large ape-like creatures snarled and bared their fangs at the assembled recruits, sniffing out the men of 2/A in the trees. Alpha tensed and he stepped protectively front of the raw recruits, staring defiantly at the golden armored gorilla whom he knew was Maccabeus. The thing met Alpha's eyes and there was a silent exchange of words. The best huffed and turned to Sergeant Johnson who was demonstrating verbally for them to remove their weapons.

The beast growled and reached behind its back to grab its large hammer by the hilt and pull it out. It presented the thing to one of the smaller brutes who reluctantly took it. Alpha thought he would feel the same if he was in his position.

Johnson then swept his arms to his side and led the _delegates_ towards the botanical gardens. Watching them go Alpha had to sigh. The Covenant transport quickly took off again, this time to circle the area and watch out for their leader. Alpha watched them go and signalled for 1/A to move back.

They did so and quietly moved nearer to the botanical gardens, maintaining their two rows and keeping their hands tuck close to their chest. Alpha nodded approvingly and turned towards 2/A still hiding in the forest.

"Dass keep everyone tight will ya?" Dass, 1/A's squad leader, nodded his head and turned back to his men. Alpha then turned towards 2/A, he had an inkling suspicion that something was going to happen there.

He stepped into the tree line, nodding to the recruits as he crouched down next to a tree. The TWO Operative stayed still and waited, stretching his fingers and rolling his shoulders to be prepared and ready.

He reviewed his mission parameters. He wasn't supposed to kill Maccabeus, unless completely without option, but he had been ordered to eliminate Tartarus. However, considering Tartarus was Maccabeus' nephew, killing the Jiralhanae would also lead to Maccabeus wanting to kill everyone. So either way Alpha concluded that they were fucked.

He waited, and listened to the negotiations through his helmet's built in COMM. line, then his ears prickled and he turned around. Another Spirit had landed behind the first one, with the only recruit even remotely looking in that direction was Osmo and he would have spotted it at the last second. If it weren't for Alpha's tightly wound coils and experience fighting the Cartel, he would have never known.

He whistled and the 2/A recruits twisted around to see the new aliens drop down. They glanced from left to right, these ones only accompanied by a Brute and several Grunts. Alpha moved forward, slinking into the bushes next to Osmo. One of the Grunts raced forward when he caught sight of them and brought out a plasma pistol, fully charged and ready to blast a recruit open.

Alpha would have none of that and raced forward, grabbing the Grunt around its head and snapping it. The little pudgy thing spasmed and died. The other Grunts and the Brute turned their directions to Alpha and 2/A who spread out in the forest to aim their weapons down on the aliens.

Alpha watched them, he was the only one outside the protective embrace of the trees, and slowly gripped his weapon. Then he caught sight of it, the black body, the sickly yellow eyes and the white mane of hair.

 _Tartarus_ , Alpha thought. Maybe he should have let the Grunt open fire, it would have given Alpha reason to kill the now red-armored Brute. The alien turned to him, hissing and growling, before walking towards their fallen comrade. He bared fangs, and pointed at Alpha, then at the Grunt.

Alpha frowned. _Communication?_ Tom had warned that the events in Halo were now skewered by the presence of DI, how characters interacted and how things were meant to go were now far out of canon. Then, he _supposed_ he didn't need to kill Tartarus just yet.

He reached down and grabbed the Grunts plasma pistol, to which Tartarus stiffened and growled. Alpha then aimed the weapon to the trees and moved his free finger between the dead Grunt and the soldiers in the trees. He sniffed and back down, conceding with Alpha as he retreated back to the Covenant behind him.

Alpha watched the Brute and likewise he did the same. The Brute watched and watched, sometimes shifting to the trees then at him. Then it clicked in Alpha's head.

The reason why Tartarus was here was to find forerunner artifacts, as Tom had told him. Humans came up on the Covenant Luminaries as artifacts due to the Covenant misinterpreting 'Reclaimer' with 'Reclamation'. They came here in search of relics when what they found were the humans that represented Forerunners in this day and age.

Alpha stood up, ignoring the hisses of 2/A's squad leader. He moved forward and stood directly in front of the Covenant forces. He wasn't a fool though and managed to discreetly turn off the safety on his gun and sling it forward. Alpha grimaced beneath his helmet and then tapped his chest, then engulfed the treeline and then tapped his chest again.

"No Forerunner," Alpha said, loud enough for Tartarus to hear but not 2/A. Tartarus huffed, not understanding. Alpha frowned and pointed at Tartarus, then at the ground, then at 2/A. He shook his head but the Brute couldn't understand and from the pungent smell emanating from him, he was getting impatient.

Alpha sighed and raised his hand while stepping backwards. The language barrier was a bitch to deal with. He retreated back to the treeline and crouched down.

- **Bravo** -

Bravo waited, keeping his hands tightly wound to go berserk if the chance popped up. After the battle over Harvest, Al-Cygni had transported the Covenant ship, once she was certain it was completely out of power and didn't even came up on EMF sensors, to reach where she hoped the scientists there would get her message and use the new alien technology if the negotiations on Harvest turned sour.

Bravo was pretty optimistic though. The moment where things were _supposed_ to turn sour had passed and still nothing out of the ordinary had transpired. Beyond the fact that they were talking to Covenant.

The conversation had become shaky though as the humans tried to comprehend the idea of giving up their planet to the new aliens. Bravo looked down onto Jenkins, who was laid prone on the ground and eyes pressed against the scope of his rifle. The kid was a good shot, almost a match for Alpha, but good shots weren't what was going to take down those beasts. It was a whole lot of bullets.

That's why he pumped his shotgun and continued to wait. He was optimistic but he knew when to let his guard down and that was after the dinner party with the in-laws not before. The Brute made some barks, unintelligible and animalistic, before it forcefully pushed the fruit back into the hands of the Attorney General. The old man staggered back and then the alien pointed to the botanical gardens, making it seem as though it had found out about the waiting three humans.

But its finger was pointed squarely at the white structure beneath them. Bravo tensed and started crawling back. Even faster when Sergeant Johnson and Sergeant Byrne began leading the way at the behest of Thune, Harvest's Governor.

Bravo slowly moved towards the open skylights, peering down curiously as he moved into a better position. Bravo hunkered down as the Brute started pacing around the room impatiently. He made sure to keep Maccabeus squarely in his sights as he moved around the room. He paused as Maccabeus stopped in front of a pedestal that rose out of the ground. He huffed and made a few more barks. He pointed at Thune, who had just entered the room, then at the pedestal.

"That's a projector, for our AI Mack," Thune explained and grew a troubled expression when the two other Brutes returned to flank Maccabeus. The Brute Chieftain tapped the pedestal again and clamped a hand around it.

Thune then began whispering harshly with Al-Cygni who was shaking her head rapidly. She must have been refusing to allow them to see Mack. Bravo stilled, was this some kind of true fate shit? Was the universe trying to make sure the Human-Covenant War happen? Hell, maybe the aliens were looking for a reason to go to war.

Finally Mack's avatar lit up on the projector and he tipped his hat at the aliens. The Brute Chieftain stilled as it stared at the little AI, then it howled. The two Brutes by its side suddenly pulled out their pistols and fired at the pedestal, destroying the old thing.

Surprised and shocked by the action, Byrne quickly grabbed Thune and tossed him into the ground while Johnson crouched low to open fire. Bravo finally thought he should make himself known and brought his shotgun to bear.

The first shot slammed against one of the Brute guards. The particle shotgun splattered against the shield and Bravo jumped off the skylight to land on the beast's back. It staggered with the addition of the new weight and the TWO Operative pressed the muzzle of his gun into the Brute's back and fired. The pellets completely obliterated the shields that defended the head, completely splattering brain matter into the ground. Maccabeus roared in anger at the death of its pack mate.

Bravo twisted around but found a Brute slamming the bladed end of its gun into his gut, lifting him off the ground and tossing him into a shelf of plants. Bravo's PCV took most of the blood but the armor dropped down to twenty percent and he felt a rib crack from the pressure.

The mercenary ignored the pain and jumped to his feet. In a moment of either decisiveness, Bravo felt his vision tinge orange and entered into what Tom had described as Overkill mode. Something like SPARTAN time but more killage and less slow-mo. He fired and, clicking the trigger more times than he could count, and unloaded on the last of Maccabeus' guards.

The creature roared and dropped to a knee as its legs disappeared in a mess of gore. The Brute collapsed and Bravo twisted to meet Maccabeus who was dueling it out with Johnson and Byrne.

The two Sergeants Mandalorian armor held strong against the searing hot spikes of the Brute weapons but the Chieftains hammer was a whole other thing. He swung the weapon down and the thing created an impact crater, tossing Byrne into the air and through the greenhouse's wall. Johnson shifted and yelled for Al-Cygni to take the civilians and leave, of course since they were the ones with the least protection.

Then Johnson was kneed in the gut and out through the front door, performing an ugly roll across the botanical garden's stairs. Maccabeus turned to Bravo and opened its mouth wide into a snarl, the Operative pumped his shotgun and nodded.

"Bring it!"

- **Alpha** -

Alpha ducked as Tartarus and his Grunts opened fire. 2/A all jumped into the ground, their PCV's taking as much damage as they could as they hugged the trees. The loud howl had came from the botanical gardens, creating a reversal of the situation that was of canon.

Alpha shrugged and popped out of cover. He fired his weapon into the Grunt ranks, scoring more than half a dozen kills before turning to aim at Tartarus. The other 2/A recruits by his side opened fire, their ME-1 RARs cackling with automatic fire.

"One Alpha fall back!" He heard Avery grunt through the COMMs. Alpha turned around to see 1/A running into the botanical gardens high-grass, dropping onto their bellies as the Spirit flew overhead.

"Keep up the fire!" Alpha moved through the underbrush and shot at Tartarus legs. The red-painted Brute armor held strong before the shields failed and Tartarus howled in pain at the burning sensation on its knee. It swung its Needler around and managed to cut into Osmo, the fatter refruits squawking as he fell to the ground. Alpha felt anger boil inside him and pushed forward, waving 2/A into better cover as he concentrated fire on the Brute.

The chest plate rattled, cutting straight into the creature's chest before he twisted around and dashed for the Spirit nearing the ground. Alpha got up to chase but was forced on the ground by the Spirit's turret.

He groaned out loud as the ship ascended and traveled towards the meeting place. Alpha rose to his feet and ran down the length of the staircase. 2/A's squad leader called out to him but Alpha ignored him and continued to shoulder his way through.

When he reached the top he was shocked to see Bravo riding on the back of Maccabeus, the giant gorilla trying in vain to pry the human off its back. It shook from left to right and finalled it decided enough and flopped backwards into the ground.

Maccabeus rose to his feet and stared down at Bravo, prepared to end his partners life. But Johnson and Byrne had rejoined the fight and opened fire, with Alpha following suit.

The Chieftains tougher shields held out longer and the Brute quickly sprinted off towards the Spirit where Tartarus laid out covering fire. Alpha dove to cover and let the ship fly away.

The male cursed.

- **Tom** -

 _I felt my fist tighten around an old western rifle. The hot humid air of the desert around me caused my duster to cling onto my body and the heat of the sun burned across my scalp._

 _I ignored it, having long gotten used to the feel of sweat covering every pore on my body. There was the sound of something behind me, the crinkling of leather boots against hard sand, and twisted around while dropping to a knee. My rifle spluttered to life with five retorts, three shots for one the bandits sneaking up on me while the other two scored against the head of the other. They fell backwards dead._

 _The rolling scenery changed, the sand beneath my feet twisted and was replaced with broken and hard cement. The old unmaintained road was littered with cars that looked like they belonged in the 80's and I gave them all a disdainful stare._

 _Then I twirled out a revolved on my hip holster, twisting around to meet the red leather dress and armor wearing soldiers racing at me with old broken off car bumpers and other makeshift weapons. I fired my shots, grazing their arms and puncturing deadly wounds on their bodies._

 _Some of them fell, others took it in stride, while the rest just kept coming in a frenzied fervor. I dodged the strike one of them made my way and twisted my hand around his neck. There was a muffled scream before I brought my weight around and snapped his neck, the spine dislodging itself from its place as his head made a one-hundred and eighty degree turn._

 _Another one of them tried to grapple me but slammed the muzzle of my rifle into his mouth and fired. Once, twice and then the third and final shot went straight through its head and popped up on the other side to skewer two more of his fellows._

 _I stood victoriously over their corpses, hands going through the familiar motions of reloading my weapon and spinning the chamber around it's axis. "Blood ain't blood till you die for a cause," I muttered the cheesy line and then squawked out a laugh._

 _The next image rolled by and I was talking to a strangely dressed nurse, doctors bag and all. She looked more like a traveling hiker than a nurse._

 _Then I saw somebody walk by, dressed completely in riot gear and hefting a mean looking sniper rifle on his back. He spoke and his voice sounded gravelly, almost like a corpse._

 _And then I saw it, the object of my desires. I walked forward with a spring in my steps and whispered the name of this paradise in hell. "New Vegas."_

Tom woke up with a start, his face filled with sweat as he clambered off of bed. He rushed into his bathroom attached to his personal cabin and let out his lunch.

Hunched over the toilet, he let the intimate moment play out as he tried to sparse the dream he had. But those were drowned out as he saw read leave his mouth, splattering the inside of the toilet as he pushed off and dropped onto his back.

He blinked incoherently at the ceiling and felt his eyes shift and refocus. Returning back into that wasteland world.

 _I dropped to the ground, grabbing my stomach as a blade was poking out but I merely pulled it out and slammed a few syringes of Med-X._

 _I shit up to my feet and pulled two revolvers up and fired into the fray. Legionnaires were chasing after me, and I dodged his strikes like a mad man. "You ain't getting this boy, no Sir!" He slammed the butt of his pistol into the head of one Legionnaire and twisted around to fire at Caesar sitting on his throne._

 _Somebody stepped forward and deflected it with a swing of a sword. I reacted by gritting my teeth and tossing my revolvers for my Laser Pistol. Firing into the ranks of Caesar's Legion, I batted my way through to meet with the man at the top of the stairs._

 _We squared off, meeting each other with our own range of weapons. He tossed knives, I threw grenades and we both rolled to cover. The explosion rattled my teeth and I hopped over a wreck car when my instincts flared._

 _Twisting around I was met with a man, dressed in a simple jacket and mask, and felt something sharp slam into my gut. I gasped and then pulled myself close to him, ignoring the painful feeling of purposefully forcing a knife deeper into my own body. I hooked an arm around his head and slammed my forehead into his mask, feeling a crack on my hairline at the reckless move._

 _He staggered back and I fell painfully onto the floor, the feeling of pain subsiding._

Tom twisted on the ground and pulled forward when he felt someone grab him. He resisted and before long there was the hiss of a familiar voice.

"Tom, _Mandalore_ , calm down!" Arc hissed. Tom stilled and twisted in the Mandalorians protectful grip. Finally, Tom sighed and let go, easing back to the corner of the bathroom. "What happened, Sir?" Arc asked worriedly.

Tom just shook his head and brought his legs up. Arc pulled his helmet off, revealing sandy brown hair and a worried face. He was comparatively young for Mandalorians, at the age of thirty-two. His face was still free of any wrinkles and his crystal blue eyes met Tom's. "I'm fine," he croaked, "are we at the Installation?"

Arc didn't seem convinced by Tom's words but nodded regardlessly to answer his question. "Yes, Sir. Our ship just got scanned by Sentinels and we're landed onto the ring."

"Good, good," Tom muttered.

"Sir, are you sure you're okay?" Tom shook his head and rose to his feet, he ignored Arc and grabbed a nice, cleaned and pressed grey suit that he had ordered for. It looked military yet only bore DI's colours and insignia, with Tom's rank as Director of Dimensional Intervention stitched to its side. A formality he had felt embarrassed to partake in but now did not care.

"Where are Manth Ma and the others?" Tom asked.

"Her forces are currently laying siege on Robert Watts at Eridanus Secundus...and Boss and his clones are currently in the cargo hold," Arc replied, the wary look still planted in his face.

"What about Dr Vahlen?" Tom asked.

"Dr Vahlen has been reported to have returned to Tribute and together with Dr Freeman are setting their construction efforts to refit more ships with Beskar. The UNSC only has so many soldiers to man their ships after all." Tom nodded, apparently satisfied.

"Alright then, once we land on the Installation we can be sure that Spark would meet us. Without an active Flood breach however even I wouldn't know how he would react." Arc nodded and left the room with one final passing glance.

Tom breathed out slowly and wiped his mouth, blood smeared his hand and he frowned. He felt his gut churned, "Ain't no living like wild west living," he said while grinning.

Then a confused expression filled his head, "Why did I say that?"

- **Manth Ma** -

 _Casper_ -Class ships danced across the expanse of space, doing battle with the Insurrectionists ships as they exchanged fire.

That _Casper_ 's were armed with torpedos and 17.5X45MM slug rounds, launched through a Mass Effect field supported by solenoids. The bullets were more than enough to tear through the enemy ships and the torpedos sent many asteroids heading straight into the colony, turning its advantage into a disadvantage.

But the _Casper_ 's weren't made with Beskar and succumbed to weapons fire, some of the ships spiralling out of control as their pilots screamed into the void of space.

Mantha Ma heard it all as he Supercommandos marched across the asteroids colony. She ignored the civilians, they weren't her target, and ordered her men to deal with the rebels in their way.

The Insurrectionists crude slugthrowers were at best a pest for their Mandalorian armor and the mercenaries opened fire with their lasers. The Mandalorians had been cleared for lasers, Tom citing it as experimental technology and wanted to showcase it to sweeten the deal with the UNSC.

Manth Ma shouldered her way through a metal door, a vibro blade extending from her gauntlet as she cut straight through a rebel who tried to swing at her with her rifle. She gritted her teeth and opened up with her flamethrower, the colony's artificial gravity allowing her to do so. Three rebels were burnt to a crisp while another met an unfortunate end by blaster.

He flopped to the ground and Manth Ma raced up the stairs of the main part of the base. Her Mandalorians followed behind her, their rifles held tight across their chests as they swept their weapons left and right.

The Mandalorians kept moving as HECU marines were moving through the colony securing civilians and eliminating any straggling rebels. The HECU had secured the tableau in front of the building, securing the area and forcing the civilians to the ground.

Rebels were advancing through the crates and expanse of space but the HECU marines were trained through hell, fought against aliens and knew war, _by the force_ Dr Freeman had actually started _training_ them.

Manth Ma ignored it and continued up the stairs. A rebel appeared at the top and she opened fire, clipping the man on the chest and sending his fellow sprawling on the floor. She quickened her pace and when she reached the top she sidestepped to the left and allowed the rest of her Mandalorians through.

They opened fire on the rebels holding point at the entrance of an office. They fanned out and laid out a firing line, absorbing the incoming fire on their Beskar armor, but even with the indestructible armor, they still felt the pain of the bullets impact.

The rebels fell, Manth Ma ordering her men forward when the enemy fire had a brief lull. They raced forward and they were momentarily surprised to find the rebels responding in kind, these ones equipped with PCVs. The Mandalorians clipped their weapons onto their back and met the rebels fist-to-fist. The Mandalorians skill with melee combat greatly outmatched that of the Insurrectionists. Mantha Ma twisted around a sloppy punch and brought her elbow down on the arm, snapping the bone.

The Innie howled and he dropped to the ground, clutching his broken hand. Manth Ma then sent her knee into his chin, knocking him out. The female Mandalorian then withdrew her vibroblade and slashed at another Innie's chest. He staggered from the blade and she pressed her attack.

She stabbed twice in his abdomen and kicked him away, the PCV held out valiantly against her blades but they couldn't held the extreme overkill for a knife which was the vibroblade. Manth Ma twirled her blaster pistol out and fired at two rebels but their vests took the blow, hardening on impact to take the hits and leaving smoking impact zones. Frowning Mantha Ma re aimed and shot them both in the head before sweeping another rebel by the legs and stomping down on his neck, he squirmed and she twisted her boot.

Her Mandalorians were dealing with the stragglers, slamming armored fists into heads and exposed flesh to deal as much damage. One of her men had a crush-gauntlet and promptly turned a rebel's windpipe to a broken pile of ash.

Mantha Ma made her men form up at the door, then she kicked it down. The Mandalorians ran in and secured the area, finding it empty. "Where is he?!" She hissed.

 _Ma'am!_ , the Captain of the _Midnight_ shouted into the COMM, _we are reading a ship activating beneath your position._

Manth Ma snarled and saw her men kick down the table at the center of the office, where an escape tunnel was left wide open. "Down!" She ordered.

Instead of using the ladders, the Mandalorians merely jumped down. They activated their jetpacks at the last second, landing with dull thuds at the end of the tunnel. They snapped their barrels up, forming a rough semicircle at the ground as Manth Ma landed.

"It's the shuttle!" One of her Mandalorians yelled. Manth Ma turned to it and bared her teeth.

"Rockets!" She yelled. Two of her Mandalorians flew into the air with their jetpacks, flanking the shuttle as the rest of her Mandalorians peppered the bridge of the ship with blaster fire.

The two Mandalorians swoop low and fired their rockets on the ships sterns. The explosions caused the shuttle to buckle as it tried to take off and then crash into the ground. It bristled against the metal flooring and the Mandalorians made their way ti the wreckage.

They surveyed the damage then kicked open the door that lead into the shuttle's cargo hold. One of the Mandalorians peeked through only to find his head snap back an M6 pistol firing into his helmet. The Beskar held but the man was knocked unconscious from his head flying backwards. Manth Ma hissed and her men threw shock grenades into the room.

She heard the sounds of electricity and men and women screaming. She gestured her men through and followed in once she knew the coast was clear. They grabbed the surviving rebels, as well as Colonel Robert Watts who was twitching in the corner, and dragged them out.

"This is Manth Ma of Strike Team A, we have the Colonel in custody!" She said through the COMM. line.

 _Riger that_ , the _Midnight_ replied. Then colony shook and Manth Ma had to spread her arms apart to steady herself. _We got problems out here in space but we'll get it handled._

Outside the _Caspers_ danced across space, dodging and dishing out pain as the _Olympus_ bombarded defensive platforms. The ship shuddered as fledgeling Mass Accelerator Cannons fixed onto the asteroids pounded against the Beskar armor. The armor held but the men inside weren't so lucky.

They were jostled around in place, heads swimming and eyes crossed in confusion. Some of them were critically injured and brought to the infirmary while others were racing between duty stations.

The Captain hissed as more wounded were reported in the impact zones. "Continue firing, we will _not_ lose!" He said.

- **Sif** -

In orbit, Sif waited as Mack had yet responded to her informing him of the aliens invading her station. Immediately a large laser buffer had been sent up from Harvest, straight onto the station.

Sif cleaned up her dress, even though she didn't need to, and opened up a cleared up space on the _Tiara_ to welcome Mack. She smiled and extended her hand out...only to slowly pull it back in.

The man that stood in front of her was far from the Mack she was used to. The man was dressed in segmented armor, hands held close to his side as he looked at Sif. There was a swab of spiky hair on his head that was slicked back with a scar traveling down his right eye. The armor likewise had a larger shoulder pauldron on the right side with mud and dirt caking the breast plate. A sword was attached to his hip and a shield across his back, the man nodded his head at Sif.

"I take it you're Sif? I'm afraid I must keep this brief, Loki did not enjoy me standing in his way." Sif frowned. So Loki had taken control of Mack's operational matrixes? She felt slightly wary at the new AI but her core logic and her emotional algorithms started lashing out at each other as she came to terms with the new information. Her core logic was telling her to focus on the mission but her emotional matrixes were wrestling between feelings of lost, fear and wariness.

"Who are you?" Sif asked, "I was not aware of Harvest receiving another AI."

The armored AI smiled and shook his head. "That is because I did not come from Harvest, or rather, I was brought from some help. I am a Dimensional Intervention Third Generation 'Smart' AI," he informed her.

"You can call me Grey Warden."


	9. Chapter 9

The _Tiara_ darkened. Sif felt her core logic scream at her but she ignored it as she watched the Grey Warden work on her systems. She destroyed small data clusters, rearranging them to make them look like they were prematurely deleted and then began forcing circuitry to explode and untangle themselves from their protective coverings. But he took extreme care not to damage Sif's matrix, keeping the most essential systems online and at perfect health.

The aliens had stepped onto the _Tiara_ but for the AI's on the station, everything was only moving a fraction of the speed. The Warden then turned around and opened up a backdoor in the _Tiara's_ processing unit. He gestured for Sif to enter and she reluctantly did.

Then he turned off the stations power, shutting down all non-essential systems in a way to make it seem like catastrophic failure, then erected military grade firewalls on Sif's backdoor and core matrixes. The AI then erased all of Sif's software and repackaged it, but not harming the still operational AI. His precision was something Sif had never seen before, even among other AI's and the speed with which he worked was astounding.

He sent down the information into a pocket zone onboard the _Tiara's_ systems and when he was all done, turned off all the lights in the main control room. He then turned to Sif and told her to remain quiet and still.

"I'm going back down to Harvest, if another laser buffer heads up her without showing you this code," he showed her a set of codes that when parsed read 'Ferelden', "kick him out got it? And if you want to send me anything, here's a personal address."

Sif acknowledged him and The Warden disappeared. She waited and allowed the time to resume, speeding by in normal human seconds. The large gorilla-like beings stepped onto her station, swinging some sort of rifle left and right, before disappearing back into the ship.

Then a small troupe of little squat aliens strode forward, lamp lights turned on and sweeping the area. They stood hunched from their breathing packs and waddled from left to right. A different type of these squat creatures, this one with a white backpack and carrying a pistol, led the way for his brethren through the station.

Sif grew curious but she listened to her core logic and shut down all remaining security systems she had. She needed to look dead and unoperational. Lest the creatures find out about her and attack.

So she sat and waited.

- **Manth Ma** -

The battle was dropping into a lull, the _Midnight_ now deep within the asteroid zone and looming over the colony. The HECU Marines were still sweeping houses and base complexes, clearing the area of any hostiles.

There was the random spark of gunfire here and there, followed by soldiers falling to the ground dead. Manth Ma ignored it and slung her rifle over her shoulder and gestured for her Mandalorians to step forward. They dragged a semi-conscious Watts with them, some members of his security detail detained and kept a close watch on.

"Captain can you bring down a shuttle for us?" Mantg Ma asked. The Mandalorians snapped their heads up when they heard chemical engines near their area and relaxed when the familiar insignia's of DI appeared.

The gathered together and the door swung open to reveal a familiar man dressed in an ONI Security Uniform. Manth Ma was surprised as Ezio walked down the gang-plank, his hidden blades tucked underneath the folds of his cuff. The man smiled at the Mandalorians then grinned twice as wide at Manth Ma.

"It's been awhile, you look as pristine and deadly as always," Ezio commented. Manth Ma tilted her head but she was hardly hostile to the man, after all he had beaten her in armed melee combat. Of course she had bested him in marksman skills.

"A pleasure as well," Manth Ma said and nudged her head to the bleary Colonel Watts. "I brought a present."

"I would have preferred something more intimate," Ezio muttered conspiratorially. The Mandalorian chuckled, dropping into the familiar banter with the ONI Officer. When Tom wasn't providing intel, it was one of the Assassins that did. More than Manth Ma cared to admit, Ezio had been there on COMM. line explaining circumstances and obstacles that kept her alive. It also helped that all three of the uniquely different Assassins had something to add to each conversation, Desmond's banter, Ezio's confidence and Volpe's shrewdness, they were all excellent company for a band of Mercenaries in deep space.

"Aren't you in uniform?" Mantha Ma said with a grin. Ezio sighed insufferably as he unlinked his fingers and walked towards the URF Colonel.

"You're taking too many cues from Desmond, I'm beginning to lose companions to speak to, both pretty women and men gullible enough to bet against me in fist fights." Half of her Mandalorians snorted, one of them even rubbing his credit chip longingly as they watched Ezio heft up the old Colonel. "But you on the other hand will have a nice long chat with some of ONI's finest hospitality."

Ezio then shoved Colonel Watts into the back of the shuttle. He nodded to Manth Ma and stood in front of her as her Mandalorians took seats on the shuttle and strapped themselves in. "ONI will have a field day with him, I have no doubt. Their ways trouble me but at the same time I'm at odds at how similar their mindsets are to the Assassins."

"Their intelligence officers, and the Assassin's main goal half the time is to gain information. There's nothing wrong from that," Manth Ma commented. Ezio grimaced and she was worried that she may have said the wrong thing but he shrugged and led her inside.

"You should take the _Olympus_ to Reach, then take some rest and relaxation on DI's lounge. You've earned it." Mantha Ma grinned and shook Ezio's shoulder in thanks before going into the shuttle.

The Assassin watched her go then ordered for the ship to launch. There was brief confusion in the pilots voice, he being unsure of who and how Ezio got on the colony. The Italian laughed, even in the future he still got it.

- **Tom** -

Tom glanced at the large sprawling ring in the horizon. He felt uncomfortable being there as the only time he had was to either kill Covenant or Flood as the Master Chief. But still he stayed rooted in place as Arc and Delta squad surrounded him in a protective fashion.

Tom felt a little bit idiotic and marveling the feel of grass and the touch of the air as he journeyed from one hill to the other. Sure he had been living on UNSC worlds for over a few years but, this was something that had been engraved in his mind since he was a child. This ring world was his very first memory of Halo and, despite not realising it, he had accidentally acquitted the place to something sacred and holy, something that was unique to this universe that bound him to it.

Then the feeling abruptly ended as he heard the familiar whooshing sound of a monitor flying nearby. The metallic chime sending a shiver running down his entire body as three sentinels appeared and corralled the humans together.

343 Guilty Spark then appeared, humming a jaunty tune to himself as he circled above. "Reclaimers! I am 343 Guilty Spark, Monitor of Installation 04," He said happily, lowering himself to eye level. "I was beginning to worry that you had left me here. Curious though, there is no Flood infestation currently tainting the Halo, for what purpose and reason have you arrived?" Spark said, bobbing up and down as the Sentinels stood guard like hawks.

Arc glanced at them, readying his blasters if needed as he hunched his shoulders into a stance. Tom eased his nerves by placing a placating hand on him and gestured for the clones to stand down. Spark made a tilting motion with his head/eye/robot body-thing.

Tom cleared his throat, wary at the little lightbulb as he neared towards him, "We are here, Spark, because you and I need to have a talk." Tom had no patience to play politician, right now all he wanted was to ensure that Guilty Spark wouldn't be an issue.

"Why whatever would you like to speak Reclaimer?" Spark said in an interested tone. Tom frowned, he supposed that with the Flood still in captivity the Monitor would be more docile and less aggressive. Tom nodded his head to the Sentinels, then glanced at Spark.

"Your Sentinels must go first, this is something private between us and you," he stated.

"I am sorry but to ensure my safety I must keep my Sentinels nearby," Spark interjected and added, "as per protocol." The human grimaced but supposed that there was nothing for him to do. Spark had been known to be a stickler for the rules and regulations made by the Forerunners, even if those Forerunner rules had kept him isolated on the ring for so many years.

"What do you know of 032 Mendicant Bias?" Tom asked. The Monitor lit up in alarm, pulling away from the group as the Sentinels became alert.

Arc and the clones stiffened, priming their weapons at the large automatons as 343 Guilty Spark circled around. "The traitor? For what purpose do you bring his name?"

Tom felt his heart quicken as the Sentinels warmed their weapon barrels. He was not used to this, fighting had always been his mercenaries abilities. He didn't know how to fight well at all and his aim was average at best. His palms were beginning to sweat and he looked to Arc as he squared his shoulders.

"Tom, we have to go," he hissed. The man was worried, Tom got that but he was sure Guilty Spark could still be reasoned with. Beyond his better judgement Tom strode forward past the protective shield of his mercenaries and nodded to Spark.

"Mendicant Bias, unfortunately, is currently in the possession of a conglomerate of aliens who seem to revere the Forerunners and you as divine. Due to some, misinterpretation Mendicant Bias has led to a series of events to occur. The aliens have begun a war to exterminate all Reclaimers from existence is what I'm saying," Tom stated. Well, _officially_ , the war had yet begun but it was going to.

"Oh my!" The distress was there, which was something that Tom thought the light bulb could not express. "That is troubling however protocols dictate that I do not interfere with the natural progression of outside beings."

Tom felt the corner of his lips angle downwards, "As a Monitor the Covenant regard you as a divine Oracle, one that speaks for the will of their gods; the Forerunners. Surely you can speak to them?"

The Monitor shook his head, "Apologies, Reclaimer however protocol clearly dictates that a Monitor must not leave the Installation it was assigned to. Installation 04 is still under operational control and the Flood have been properly contained and studied upon," Spark replied unhelpfully.

Well, Tom wasn't expecting the best when he got onto the ring but he supposed he shouldn't be surprised. Spark loved this ring in space and he would naturally not leave, except in the case of Halo 2 where it was blown out of the sky. "Still, I must ask of you. What is your protocol to aliens appearing on the Halo?"

Spark's answer was immediate, "If they are not Reclaimer, then they are to be eliminated." Tom's blood ran cold at that information but it eased up. Still that did not explain why Spark hadn't attacked the Covenant when they reached Halo but perhaps he did and he just did not have the manpower to deal with so many.

"Spark how many active Sentinels do you have serving under a combat role?" Tom asked.

"5 345 units," Spark chimed in. Five thousand wasn't a bad number but since the flood was released and the Covenant having deployed heavy defences Tom could understand why they were in such low numbers throughout the ring world.

"Spark would you take the orders of a Reclaimer?" Tom asked. Spark shimmied in some strange emotion in the air.

"My Makers are my Masters and they have decreed you as their heirs. Not only to Halo but to all things Forerunner. I am obligated to obey, should you not oppose my core programming." Tom nodded and lifted his hand up.

He closed his eyes and imagined. Words popped up in his head, something that had slowly been happening as he continued to use more and more of his power. _0-Block Life, LQ-3/2._

He still hadn't deciphered what exactly the terms meant but they were something that he decided were best left at times where pondering was more preferable to action. Tom concentrated and let the idea take shape.

The feeling of creating something out of thin air...how do you explain it? He never saw his creation pop into life but he did feel something. It wasn't a big something as like a torrent of water surging through his outstretched fingertips. More like...a _nod_ from the universe, from the system that enveloped him. It was listening to his request and granted it, going through the necessary machinations in order to allow the formation of what he desired.

"Oh my!" Spark cried and Tom opened his eyes to see four thousand extra Sentinels, ranging from Sentinel Majors to Enforcers to Protector Sentinels. The Sentinels turned around and met their new colleagues with their weapons drawn.

The newly minted Sentinels turned around and stared at their counterparts. They waited then advanced and tilted heads at each other. Spark made a humming noise and before long the Sentinels disappeared in the horizon of Halo. "I have put the new Sentinels to work, curious though, they call me Monitor and you Overseer."

Tom blinked and smiled bitterly. All of his creations it seemed were made with an ingrained loyalty to him. Which was a good thing but Tom wished that they weren't so vocal about it. "The Sentinels shall obey your commands however, if one of the Aliens that attacked us arrived on the ring they will take action. The Sentinels I provided have above average intelligence and can take self-action if needed."

"Hmm, a liability," Spark muttered. Tom clenched his fist, an inexplicable anger washing through his being at the comment. "However acceptable, the new Sentinels open up new paths to take with my research on the Flood. I thank you."

Tom nodded, then a thought hit him. He raised his hand again and this time hd willed something else into existence. There was silence as he lowered his hand and stared at the new object in front of him.

It was a Monitor like 343 Guilty Spark but this one had an orange glow and the colour of its metal was a more grey than silver. "Evening I am 001 Midnight Servant, you may call me Night," the Monitor said, having a distinct feminine voice. Since Night was formed by Tom's mind she did not obey the Monitors naming rule and since she was the first of Monitors, she would be numbered as follows.

"Another Monitor?" Spark said, moving towards Night. The light bulb sounded...hopeful? If nothing else he seemed awed by Night's presence.

"Oh? 343 Guilty Spark is your name? Would you mind if I call you Guil?" Night asked. Spark seemed surprised before shaking his head.

"My full designation is 343 Guilty Spar- hey where are you going?" Night had ignored him and began flying off towards Halo's couple of Sentinels that Tom had made following her.

"I wish to see what I can achieve in this form!" Night said happily. Spark seemed appalled and flew off to follow.

"This is _my_ installation I will not have you messing with what I have spent years carefully maintaining!" Tom tuned out the rest as the Sentinels moved to follow their Monitor, not paying anymore attention to the humans. Arc rose from his stance and shot an annoyed glance at the floating light bulb.

The Clones did the same with Scorch shrugging and muttering, "Weirder people have met us." Tom figured that was the end of the visit. With Installation 04 now reinforced and hidden from the Covenant even if they were to accidentally stumble upon it then the Sentinels would be more than enough to defend it.

A part of him wanted to drag Spark with him to Harvest but that would be too out of the blue and he was unsure what Truth and Regret would do. Mercy himself was not someone he wanted the light bulbs attention fixated too much on. Plus, with Harvest still being attacked, then the High Council reformation had just gotten under swing. The political affairs of the Covenant would be in too much disarray for things to go smoothly. Too many ways information could be silenced without too much fuss.

Tom gripped his hair and sighed. Just a few years ago he would have been an average teenagers talking about girls and the uncertainty of adulthood. What job would he get, his ambitions and what courses to take in college. Now however he was thinking about politics, about war, and how many men and women would have to die to gain the best possible chance of survival.

Harvest could either be won or lost, it didn't matter. The Covenant would still make their priority be destroying humanity and a fleet would be there in a few days to meet whatever more resistance.

Alpha and Bravo, Tom was sure, was giving them hell. He had also brought in the Grey Warden from Dragon Age but that one was much tougher. The Grey Warden was a blank slate, he is what the player wants him to be. He had nothing to call his own, therefore Tom couldn't bring him to life with experiences and the ability to operate his body on his own. So then, why not make him into an AI? That was what he had done, brought forth an AI that had all of the Grey Wardens experiences, all the faults and rights, and creating an artificial intelligence with a lifetime of experiences and memories.

Take that UNSC Smart AI's that could only last seven years!

"Come on, men. We're going back to Tribute. Scorch you're driving." The named Commando grumbled but the others shrugged and headed back for the ship.

Arc glanced funnily at Tom before shrugging and passing him. Tom knew he was worried about the incident in the room. He didn't want to speak about it either. That was something left alone until Tom himself could properly discern the events of what had transpired.

 _The Wild West is a Place where I Belong._

Tom knew what that world was. That was _Fallout_. Thing is, he was pretty sure he didn't have a southern accent and tanned skin.

Whatever that dream or vision was, it wasn't his own.

- **Maccabeus** -

Maccabeus staggered into his troop bay. His armor was still caked in his blood and the gold plates were damaged from the firefight he had sustained from the aliens on the planet.

He had ventured into their strange white structure in search for an Oracle but he had found something else more hideous. An Associated Intelligence, _heresy_. Maccabeus was sure the aliens were keeping the relics to themselves and probably had the Oracle under custody.

Not only that but they had killed Licinius and Vorenus. Tartarus had also been injured gravely by them, their weapons though crude carried force unlike any other he had seen and their warriors were fierce. Such a small body but capable of holding onto him.

Maccabeus stood up and winced as his legs groaned at the action. He quietly moved towards the hangar bay. His heart torn from faith and duty.

The Prophets had ordered him to glass the planet but the desecration of so many artifacts would be a sin in and of itself. He had spoken with Deacon about it, the circumstances of disobedience and desecration. His answer was ambiguous but it had given Maccabeus the strength to choose to disobey the order and search for more relics. There were _thousands_ of them shown by the Luminary, they had to find something.

But he was dealing with insubordination in his ranks as well. The Yanme'e had tried to kill the Huragok Lighter Than Some moments ago and the Chieftain was forced to send him away with the Deacon to the alien space station. But there was something good from it, that being the four new vehicles that the Huragok was able to design for him and his surviving pack.

"Tartarus," Maccabeus grunted, gripping his wounds. The younger Jiralhanae was gripping his injured knee that was blown out. Maccabeus grunted, silent fury pulsing through his veins.

"We must gather the forces. We will not allow these _heretics_ to further place their unworthy hands on the relics."

"But the Prophets...," Tartarus muttered. Maccabeus ignored him and stalked off to his bridge. Not a single one of those aliens must leave and the relics must be recovered before they glass the planet.

- **Alpha** -

"So, what did you just say GW?' Alpha asked as he stared at the AI.

"Sif just contacted me and told me she has begun speaking to one of the aliens aboard the _Tiara._ She says the aliens are looking for relics, specifically an _Oracle_. I know of a way to make the signal that might be able to bring the aliens down." Grey Warden reiterated.

"Excuse me but do you expect us to trust one of the aliens that attacked us?" Byrne said angrily, Sergeant Johnson nodding his head as well.

GW shook his head at the two Sergeants, "No, the creature is different. He is more akin to an organic AI and is a pacifist. If anything he is could very well be a turncoat." That didn't seem to appease the two Sergeant's, in fact the phrase turncoat had already sent them over the edge but Al-Cygni intervened.

"This would be boon for us if we can gather more information on the aliens. What about Sif, did the alien get anything from her?" She asked.

"The alien is more concentrated on fixing the strands than getting information out of Sif." GW turned and caught Loki's gaze as he stared at him with a scowl. "You do not approve of my actions?"

"They are risky and idiotic," Loki said simply. GW smiled and shoved as much graphic porn as he could into the PSI's buffer, shocking the AI. He spluttered and his hologram completely disappeared as he went to deal with the massive data slamming into his systems.

GW waited a moment then Loki returned, his scowl completely set to hostility. "I heard human males did stuff like that to facilitate bonding between friends. I thought it could cool your attitude."

The PSI grumbled but nonetheless nodded in acquittal. "Regardless I have a plan, an ambush. We can lure in the the aliens with the symbol of an _Oracle_ and use the Mass Driver to punch a hole through their ship."

Alpha nodded, "Me and Bravo can be on standby to storm the wreckage to make sure none of those aliens are alive while the Colonial Militia moves the colonists on the Tiara."

Bravo grinned, his mask lifted up to reveal his face. "Let the big boys deal with the real trouble." Both Byrne and Johnson frowned at his comment but didn't press.

"I'll do it," Ponder said, his robotic hand crossed over his shoulder with his organic one. "This is a job for the Captain after all."

Al-Cygni nodded, right then, it's plan.

 **Red Vs Blue season 13 finale. T.T Church NUUUUUUU**

 _ **NUUUUUUUU**_

 _ **NUUUUUUUUUU**_


	10. Chapter 10

The Covenant ship spluttered and slowly arched towards the ground. Alpha felt his fingers tightened as Ponder pulled out a Sweet William Cigar, staring at the still injured Tartarus as he glared at the human. _Someday we will win, no matter what it takes_. Then the alien had skewered him in between the knives of his spike rifle.

Alpha felt his anger boil and he heard Bravo spit in distaste but they couldn't interfere, their plan banked on the fact that the aliens didn't know they were there. Tartarus barked something to three Brutes, who growled back and drove towards the Mass Driver.

Alpha watched them go, itching to shoot them before returning to the steering wheel of his Warthog. "When we get in, blow everything inside to hell," Alpha said. Bravo grunted and acknowledgement as he ripped the charging handle of LAAG up.

"After we double back for Byrne." Alpha nodded in agreement and revved the engine up. If they managed to kill all the brutes on _Rapid Conversion_ and Byrne was able to hold out against the aliens at the Mass Driver, then the only resistance that the colonists would receive were the Grunts and well, they were _Grunts_.

The Warthog careened through the fields of Harvest, the Spirit flying high above too focused on getting back to their downed ship that they didn't acknowledge the human's presence. Alpha pulled his Kevlar mask down and readied his M4-1 CAR as the Warthog neared the broken ship.

The Spirit flew into a still open hanger close to the ground and Alpha sped through the flames. He saw Tartarus hop off the Spirit, his red armor still carrying the scars of Alpha's attack all those days ago. The man revved up his engine and none too gently slammed the front of the Warthog into the Brute's back. He yelled into the sky and then the Jiralhanae was slammed into the nearest wall.

Bravo brought the weapon around and fired, a continuous burst that cut through the shields and armor with recessive fire. The aliens head exploded when its shields failed and Alpha reversed, only to slam it again into the creature without pause. Again, and again, and again. Until he was satisfied that the Brute's mangled and beaten corpse was cold, Alpha hopped out of the Warthog and snapped his rifle up.

"Bugs!" He yelled and Bravo brought his weapon back around. The Yanme'e were swarming around the hangar, reacting to the alien's presence with hostility. "Shotgun!" Alpha yelled and Bravo tossed his prized weapon over to his partner.

Then they fired, cutting into the storm of flying insects. The loud roar of the LAAG didn't let up as Bravo swung it from left to right, keeping his aim squarely on the most concentrated of the creatures. Alpha on the other hand didn't bother aiming, every shot from the powerful shotgun guaranteed a kill and the mercenary slowly advanced towards a set of ladders that would take him to the second floor.

"Bravo are you going to be alright?" Alpha asked as he reached the ladders. His partner was still behind the turret but his left arm was being pressed up against his chest, a thin trail of blood leaking downwards.

"Just go!" He snarled. Alpha didn't need to be told twice and quickly scaled the ladder. The dull rings of the LAAG started to dampen and it wasn't long before all Alpha could hear was silence, which was abruptly broken by growling and hissing. He stilled, feeling his heart quicken as the Brutes talked between each other. They had yet realised he was there and Alpha would have to thank the smoke for masking his scent.

He scaled the last few steps of the ladder and glanced at the three Brutes on the bridge. He grinned, they all had their backs turned to him and he quickly hopped onto the deck, the shotgun in his grasp as he opened fire. The first to be hit was a smaller Brute standing in the way of Maccabeus, the thing howled and dropped to a knee as the powerful ammunition slammed through its shields and caused its knee to splatter.

Maccabeus whirled around while roaring and Alpha twisted his aim to try and blow his head off. But the Brute had taken two shots before it dove for cover. The mercenary hissed and rolled away from several hot and deadly spikes launched his way. He right himself at the end of his roll and twisted back to the injured brute still limping to cover.

He fired three shots in quick succession and the Brute's back exploded into gore and blood. It flopped to the ground with a weak growl and the corpse turned cold. Alpha smiled but was dazed as a piece of machinery was thrown at his head. The hit stunned him and he was unprepared when a Brute grabbed him around the neck and pulled. He was raised above the Brutes head and then slammed back into the ground.

PCV let out a shrill warning as it took most of the blow but the mercenary still felt a bone snap under the pressure. Sometimes he regretted not wearing Beskar armor but he decided that the moment wasn't the best choice to contemplate his armaments. He rolled to his side but the brute stomped onto his back, nearly snapping his spine in half.

Alpha snarled and whipped out his sidearm, a ME-PDW, and fired into the creature's foot. The Brute howled and lifted his foot in an attempt to end the mercenary but the moment the pressure on his back lifted Alpha rolled to the side and rose up into a crouch. He fired into the creature's side and it stumbled under the unexpected Kinetic Force of the weapon.

It's shields failed and three shots bypassed the armor to slam into the flesh underneath. The Brute howled as it clutched its wounds but Alpha couldn't finish his skill as Maccabeus had returned and swung his armor around to kill Alpha. The shockwave sent the mercenary into the air and he crashed into burning consoles, winding him and charring his arms which had the least armor.

He pushed himself off and ignored the pain but Maccabeus slammed a fist into Alpha's kevlar mask. The mask cracked against the hit, his nose cracking as he was forced onto his back. His face stung and he was unable to see anything as his vision darkened. When he was sure he was about to die as Maccabeus raised his hammer over his head, the mercenary was shocked to see the alien stumble back from rifle fire.

Twisting around Alpha saw Bravo slowly advancing with his pistol drawn and his left arm nearly torn to shred. Alpha winced and dove for his dropped shotgun and rounded on Maccabeus. The Brute howled into the air as it's shields failed and cyan gas vented off his plates. Alpha fired his shotgun and caved in the Chieftain's leg and Brao fired around straight through its neck. The Chieftain gurgled blood and Alpha stepped forward and stomped a fist onto its face, making it splay out on its back.

Then he reloaded his shotgun and unloaded into the creature's face. When he was done, Maccabeus' face was nothing but shredded meat and blood. He twisted around to see Bravo finishing off the last Brute, gutting it with a burst from a ME-1 RAR.

"All dead," Bravo muttered.

"Even the bugs?" Alpha asked. The other male was silent then shrugged.

"Like hell I know." Alpha nodded and grabbed the broken pieces of his mask. He'd have to make a new one, still he felt partially depressed at losing it. Alpha wasn't philosophical but he knew he wasn't the same person from his universe. He was created in this universe not brought and all the memories he had was of another man.

The mask was his only real attachment. The design, the scars. Alpha's body could have just been remade but the memories of the mask binded him to whom he was. Now it was broken.

"There's always room for another mask," Bravo commented.

Alpha glanced at his friend who was grabbing his hand. He didn't need to explain the unsaid, _there's always room for another Alpha._

- **Byrne** -

Byrne dove out of his Warthog as one of the new alien vehicles slammed into his car. He ducked and raced towards a pile of sandbags and hopped over it as spikes flew past.

He gripped his BR-55 and glanced at Habel and Jepsen as they crouched low on the sandbag. "Stinsen!" He yelled at his 2/A squad leader, "Get some fire on those aliens!"

But his squad leader came up with an order of his own, "Move, Staff Sergeant! Now!" Byrne quickly rose to his feet and grabbed the recruits that were with him. They stumbled out of the way as the alien rammed its vehicle into the sandbags, sending it spraying everywhere.

The door to Loki's data centre opened up and Byrne lifted up his weapon while firing. The rounds of his BR-55 ricochet off the vehicle but it forced the gorilla to pull back. Habel and Jepsen disappeared down the staircase while Vallen, a much older recruit, was too slow to reach it in time. The gorilla drove straight into him and the recruit disappeared underneath the rolling blades of the vehicle.

Like a woodchipper he was crushed inside the spinning blades. But his PCV hardened when the blades cut into the vest, mercifully after the recruit was dead, the blades groaned as it couldn't dislodge the vest.

Byrne dove into the data centre, rolling on the ground as the alien vehicle shuddered and disappeared in a flash of fire. He twisted and looked up to see that the alien had jumped off before the ship was lost. He grimaced and opened fire, knocking against the aliens shields before dashing off further down the corridor.

The alien followed him and if it were not for Habel and Jepsen set up at the end of the hallway, he would have been minced meat. The Staff Sergeant ducked as both the recruits opened fire with their RAR's and splashed against the aliens shield. The rifles cut through the air at phenomenal speeds and gutted the alien where he stood.

It flopped to the ground, lifeless.

From over the radio, Johnson could hear the others of 2/A reporting a confirmed alien kill and one more retreating away from the Mass Driver.

"Don't worry I got him," Loki said. Rushing up the stairs Byrne was able to catch sight of JOTUNs rushing down the field to meet the sole survivor. The creature tried to swerve but the JOTUN all-in-one's surrounded him and slammed into the creature. The vehicle exploded into sparks, the alien howling into the night as it was burned to a crisp.

"That's it for now," Loki muttered as the JOTUNs repositioned themselves.

"Now, what about the Tiara."

- **Sif** -

Sif watched curiously as _Lighter Than Some_ continued to repair the station. When she asked him why he was helping he replied that he was helping because that was who he was. He was an odd alien, and his language while simple was complex in its own way.

Sif reached her fingers out and began making hand signs. _Fear, me, you not?_ She still had difficulty though mimicking the movements.

 _No, I am Huragok. I build and repair, I feel pain and fear for my Unggoy friend but for me I have already decided_

Sif titled her head, unsure of what he meant but nodded anyways.

 _You, very strange_ She signed. The Huragok didn't move, only staring at the panels as he neatly aligned the rows of wires.

 _I am Huragok, this is what my kind are_ Sif frowned.

 _When the humans come, they will kill you and your Unggoy friend. I am unsure if I can stop them_

 _I understand. I know what I have sowed, let my actions redeem me of my sins_

Gunfire erupted in the corridor and Sif glanced at the hallways. Hoping to help the marines she activated the stations systems and she carefully maintained the containers moving up her strands and heading towards the the propulsion pods.

She opened up a view of her security cameras and caught sight of the Colonial Militia stepping onto the station. They fired their rifles and cut the Unggoy apart.

She saw _Lighter Than Some_ turned to the hallway when he heard a familiar Unggoy prattling out warnings. From her camera she could see the Deacon Dadab hugging close to the wall as his fellow Unggoy tried to shoot back. They were cut to ribbons and the Deacon was gasping for breath as his methane suite was damaged in the firefight.

The Militia moved through, surveying their kills, and popped three rounds into Dadab. The Huragok made a sound of sorrow at his friend's death, hands flailing in the air as he cried out at his friend's death.

 _Too much death, too many friends dead_ The Huragok complained. Sif nodded sadly and the Militia quickly ended the Unggoy resistance, meeting the enemy head for head and killing everyone they could find off.

One of the Sergeants, Johnson his name was, stepped in the main control room. He caught sight of _Lighter Than Some_ repairing the station. Sif appeared in front of the Sergeant in a Holo-projection, demanding he lower his weapon.

"But Ma'am!" He protested even as his men flanked him from left and right. Fortunately Al-Cygni stepped forward and grabbed the Sergeant's rifle ordering him to stand down. The man glanced between Al-Cygni and the Huragok and reluctantly lowered his weapon.

Just then Sif felt something enter through her laser buffer, bringing with it a code, and appeared in front of Sif. "You'd do well to show respect Sergeant, if it weren't for the Huragok then your men would have died in greater numbers and he did this _against_ his own people, his friends." Johnson shrugged but gave the Huragok a look of grudging respect.

One of the recruits, Jenkins, was slower to lower his weapon. "Jenkins lower your weapon!"

"But _Sarge_!" He hissed. Johnson stepped up to his side and grabbed the rifle. The man glanced up, eyes shadowed by the hood of his helmet.

"It's _over_ recruit. The fight's over."

Jenkins thinned his mouth and lowered his weapon while turning around. "It's not Sarge and you _know_ that."

"Jenkins!" Dass, 1/A's squad leader, hissed but Johnson raised a hand to stop him. Jenkins moved deeper into the station and Forsell looked hopefully at the Staff Sergeant.

"Go," he frunted. The Militiaman nodded in thanks and disappeared following his friend.

While that was happening Al-Cygni was interrogating both Sif and The Warden. "You called it Huragok Warden, I can understand Sif knowing what it is called but how did you know?"

The Warden smiled and projected an image onto the station, it was the alien cruiser, alongside hundreds of files with languages she did not know. "The alien files have been very informative. However, I am not linguistic AI, my purpose is battle, as such I could only translate part of the data."

Al-Cygni stared at wide eyes at the data, nodding at the idea. The Warden had more things to say however, "It would still be prudent however if we evacuate Harvest and warn the CMA of the aliens, the cruiser unfortunately had been able to send a distress signal before crashing down. It is possible more ships are on their way."

That made the Militiamen and Johnson tense up, staring out into space as though an alien warship was about to emerge.

Sif felt fear at the thought of another invasion, the idea of Harvest being turned to ash sent her algorithms in a havoc. But a familiar presence entered her station and her fear were replaced with joy and comfort when Mack appeared, looking a little bit dazed as he stared at nothing in particular. He refocused then smiled at Sif.

"Our first order of business should be relocating the two of you, the aliens may use either of you to locate Earth." The Warden gestured his head a drive attached to Sif's systems. "While your core matrixes are attached to the planet and the station, if you overloaded your fragments with enough data you can essentially transfer your essence onto the drive for carrying, of course you would have to delete all data and your personality matrixes on your systems."

"But wouldn't that delete Loki as well?" Mack said in worry.

"I have spoken to him about it and he has agreed, this is the best way." Mack looked sad over the loss of his other half and Sif laid a comforting hand on the man's shoulder. The Warden turned away, recognising it as a private moment between them.

"Now, we best send a report to the CMA."

 **Journal Update**

Harvest was not lost. Sure some parts of the planet was glassed but a lot more people had survived this time around and Maccabeus alongside Tartarus was dead. That was a win for me, I'm satisfied with that outcome.

I wonder what would have happened if I had rolled my still fledgeling fleet into Harvest's orbit, burning the Rapid Conversion out of the aie. If I was a soldier, I would have loved that idea...but I'm not and there was too many important things going on in Harvest. Johnson's renewal of faith, Jenkins joining the marines and humanities first contact.

It was better this way, at least to me. Harvest was safe, that was all that mattered.

The CMA had stumbled upon Harvest all tattered and ruined, the _Argo_ completely confused. Of course by the time the message The Warden had sent to the CMA reached them, the Covenant reinforcement arrives. CMA _Vostok, Arabia_ and _Heracles_ landed in system trying to engage in peaceful talks with the Covenant as the _Argo_ bordered the edge of the system.

The result was a massacre with the only survivors being a limping _Heracles_ and a fully intact _Argo._

The UNSC hadn't gone public yet with the media but I suspect it would be soon. Rear Admiral Preston Cole had assembled his fleet and I am pleased that at least fourteen percent of which was equipped with Beskar armor alongside a much larger quantity of Frigates and Destroyers designed by DI which, though lacked the Beskar, had been outfitted with improved weapon systems that used Eezo and solenoids. They had also been upgraded with thicker hulls with the same conductive material as the PCV's that hardened upon impact. It was the best DI could do, nonetheless Rear Admiral Cole had expressed his thanks, even if it was directed my back as I hadn't been cleared for the alien information yet.

A part of me was afraid I may have bitten off more than I could chew. Maybe by making Harvest win and causing the death of Maccabeus and Tartarus, the Covenant would place even more of their wrath down on the UNSC. Who knows, maybe they might really consider humanity a threat beyond a desecration of their gods and be twice as aggressive and cunning. Tartarus was Truth's right hand, he might have been replaced with aore aggressive and less thoughtful Jiralhanae as the one Maccabeus had raised.

I should prepare my men. Maybe I'll send Delta team to deal with the Jiralhanae, that'd be an amazing thought.

But High Charity remained my goal, as well as the Ark. I knew it was on Earth, the portal, but I don't know if I had the clearance to permit a dig site as huge as I would need it to be.

Volpe had warned me that ONI was now paying closer attention to DI. They had a dedicated team of analysts working day in and day out to unravel the secrets of Dimensional Intervention. Volpe had been stalling them and Ezio had made sure that some of their more sensitive information got _misplaced_. But I'm starting to feel scared. ONI was a fuck up, there was no telling what they could do to me and my operations. They could already trying to sway publiv opinion against me.

Parangosky needed to go, and the new MJOLNIR suit was about to be issued to the SPARTANs soon. The children had already underwent the augmentation procedure and I am happy to admit that only thirteen children rejected the augmentation with five deaths and zero disfigurement. This meant there were fifty-seven active duty SPARTANs, a larger number than the past thirty-three.

Serin however had still not accepted the augmentations but still received the biochemical and physical augmentations. Parangosky tried to lay her mitts on her but Commander Volpe was able to get Halsey to sign him as direct custody over the rejected SPARTAN children.

He would keep a close eye on the children and stand guard against the Admiral. Desmond himself had actually been able to get a Fhajad under him in Section Zero, the man instilling the ideals of the Assassins into the young SPARTAN while maintaining his already strong familial connection with his SPARTAN brethren.

Parangosky, maybe I should replace her. I'm sure Volpe wouldn't mind taking her place...or slitting her throat.

There is so many thoughts going through my head. I'm not sure if you're helping anymore.

This book is running out of space. But I still have enough energy to keep going for more years to come.


	11. Chapter 11

John stared in a mixture of shock and awe as he stared at the suit that was meant to be his. He ran a finger over it and marveled at the soft cool touch of Beskar armor while his brothers and sisters likewise marveled their own suits.

Dr Halsey watched him as she stood with another scientist by her side. He wondered who she was but he tossed that thought aside. Right now the only thing he should be thinking about was putting on the MJOLNIR suit and preparing to fight off the Covenant.

"Now, John if you were to put on your suit we will showcase the suits many features," Dr Halsey said as she flanked him. John nodded and carefully, with a team of technicians, began put on the suit.

It felt, comfortable to be in. The suit stuck to him, becoming another skin rather than cumbersome armor. It was also light, so much so that it felt like a feather. He didn't register wearing a suit at all, in fact he felt naked. He hoped that the suit provided better protection than the weight implied.

Dr Halsey then showed him how to operate the suit. How it responded to thought rather than movement and how fast it boosted his speed. Then he saw the other armaments, the attached grenade launcher which had an effective range up to four hundred metres, a vibroblade that could cut through steel and a jetpack set onto the back of the suit. The best out of the suit that John thought was the protection the Beskar provided as it shrugged off shots from ME-1 RARs with the underlining of PCV taking the brunt of the force as it hardened beneath the Beskar plates.

He felt indestructible in the suit. Like nothing could beat him. But he quickly quelled such thoughts, it would do no good to become arrogant and haughty, best to be the calm and collected soldier that Mendez had taught him to be.

Then he was set off into a course to better test out the suit. He wobbled at first, unable to get used to thinking an action rather than making it happen but soon he got around to the notion and his SPARTANs had too. They ran in rows of two, getting used to the movements as they slid to a stop and nodded to Dr Halsey and Vahlen who clapped graciously from where they were standing.

"You've done well," Halsey smiled. That smile abruptly ended when she heard something troubling to the COMM. line. John felt a worried frown take place on his face as he gestured for his SPARTANs to stand to. They followed his orders, back straight and hands to their side as they proudly wore their new armor.

John wished some of the other were there with them, the five that had died and the three that the augmentations had rejected. They deserved to be here, with the SPARTANs. He had failed them as a Squad Leader, a mission he had no control over and costed them their lives. He felt his fist tightened, the new force that the suit provided making it that much easier to rip the tendons on his wrist apart. He loosened and listened as Halsey told them of what was happening.

John nodded in understanding, the Covenant had came to them, this was what they were trained to do. Master Chief stopped his train of thought however as an ONI Officer stepped up. Instinctively he and his SPARTANs straightened but he couldn't help the smile when he saw Fhajad with the man, the SPARTAN (He was still a SPARTAN) looked uncomfortable in the ONI black of Section Zero.

John recognized the man that stepped up. He was Lieutenant Desmond, or more formally as Zero Desmond. A theatrical way to show that his clearance level was Zero the highest any Officer could achieve. The man was handsome, or at least that was what some of the male and female SPARTANs had informed him.

John didn't really know what constituted as 'handsome' or 'pretty' anymore. More like what was deadly and what was explosive. The day John had met Desmond, in the thick of Reach's training grounds as Mendez yelled at them at the top of his lungs, he had concluded that Desmond was deadly but no the SPARTAN deadly. Desmond was a quiet deadly, the one where he could slit your throat before you realised it and then fight off an army with the very same knife.

The way he walked through the throng of SPARTANs, tapping each one in the head in a sympathetic fashion. John and his brothers and sisters were confused over the smile but the man was always nearby, extending an apple or free words of advice as they dealt with the harsh training under Mendez. There was understanding in Desmond and John had noted that he had garnered the infatuation of some of his female friends, Kelly included. John thought that the man could be trusted, even if he was ONI. He knew Desmond was a man that would not abandon his morals for the greater good but realised that sometimes duty had to prevail over humanity.

Such conflicting thoughts had been shared to him by Mendez himself as the CPO talked about the Section Zero Operative. To this day John took it to heart.

"It's good to see everyone up and moving about. Dr Vahlen, Dr Halsey," Desmond nodded to the two scientists then patted Fhajad over the shoulder.

"What do you think Fhajad? You think you could pull off that look?" Desmond said good-naturedly.

Fhajad looked at his SPARTAN brethren and smiled a little bit. "I do believe so, Sir. I can still pack a punch squarely between Sam's face." The largest SPARTAN chuckled from where he stood, nodding in acknowledgement to Fhajads searching gaze.

But John wondered why they were talking when the enemy was outside prepared to rain hell down on them. Desmond answered his question.

"Now, who is ready for their first combat op?"

- **Volpe** -

Commander Volpe looked into the interrogation room as ONI interrogators began working on the captured alien that the mercenaries Alpha and Bravo had captured above Harvest. While he was watching a team of scientists were studying the alien ship and its weapon systems.

But Volpe noted that only fifteen scientists were attached to the project. No doubt since ONI knowing that DI already had a working prototype of a blaster rifle, they were just barely getting the funding in order to stay ahead of the PMC company.

Volpe knew many in ONI were disgruntled with so much reliance in a mercenary group and the most vocal of all was Admiral Parangosky. She expressed suspicion and disdain for everything related to DI and refused to allow anything made from them to reach the walls of ONI's headquarters.

But try as much she could not step away from budget constraints and funding. Tom was playing the UNSC and showed the top brass what his scientists could do with directed energy weapons in five years in comparison to ONI's twenty. The top brass unanimously signed for Dimensional Intervention and ONI was left in the dust.

Still didn't stop the crow from trying though. From the files The Warden had been able to provide and many of ONI's best linguists to decipher it. She had been trying to gather as much information from the Kig-Yar female as possible and gaining some headway in weapons research to try and outdo DI.

"You got room for one more?" Volpe turned and saw Ezio stride into the room. The Italian man had the same charismatic smile always firmly attached to his face as he took a step next to his old friend.

"Just got back from Colonel Watts?' Volpe asked. Ezio grimaced and nodded, his fingers flexing from playing the brute in that interrogation.

"It was surprisingly tame, the Moscow Assassins would be shaking their heads at me," Ezio replied.

"Moscow?" Volpe said with furrowed eyebrows.

"Ah, you weren't brought up to speed with the Assassin lore-I mean history. Sorry, it's still hard to imagine what was once real to us is complete fiction to another," Ezio commented.

"Yet here we are, fighting again in a world that is fictional as well yet you and I breath and the person that commands us undoubtedly does too," Volpe interjected. Ezio smiled and nodded, fingering the mechanism of his hidden blade.

"Did we find anything useful here?" Ezio asked.

"Nothing that we didn't already know. The Grey Warden is already at work trying to intercept Covenant systems, piggybacking on the UNSC broadband as they head off to Reach."

"Won't somebody find him?" Ezio asked.

"Please he's the Grey Warden, nobody can find him without losing an arm or...processing data?" Volpe said, eyes scrunched up. Ezio laughed understanding how his friend felt as he patted his arm.

"We are so old!" Ezio said happily.

- **Tom** -

Tom lurched in on bed, his mouth gasping as vomit tried to escape. He forced it back down, not wanting to soil his mattress as he pushed himself off the bed and tried to steady himself. The man stumbled into the bathroom, legs feeling slightly unhinged as he leaned his full weight on the sink and heaved.

He emptied the contents of his stomach and reached back, coughing out the last of it inside his throat and stared at the mirror. His face was a mess, rings had developed under his eyes the his short hair looked scraggly and bed-ridden. Tom pushed away and splashed water onto his face, wiping it off with the back of his hand as he shakily exited the bathroom.

He glanced around his room, the room he had been staying in for the past two days. It was spacious but spartan in design. Just a closet, a bed and a chair with a table. Nothing special, he didn't warrant such attention. Tom stumbled towards the chair, where a suit was laid out all pressed and clean for him.

There was a note attached signed by Arc, _m_ _eeting is at 1030_. Tom glanced at the clock and groaned when it read 10:15 AM. He wiped off whatever residual feeling was still gathered around his throat and mouth and quickly unclothed. He pulled off his shirt and tossed it onto the bed, then grabbed the suit and put it on.

The button-up shirt was a pale grey with jacket a deep onyx. It was tight around his sides and fitted to his form, the young man wasn't used to the sensation but he shrugged it off. He looked to the mirror on the other end of the room, he remembered he had specifically asked for it when he had arrived two days ago.

Tom stopped in front of the mirror and stared. His face looked back, his young boyish features wrapped up in an older suit wearing bundle. The male touched his cheek, marveling how much he had aged in this world. How many years? He had lost count.

The questions popped up again. Questions about Harvest, the uncertainty of his decisions, the feelings of loss and death. People had still died on Harvest and at the time Tom had brushed it off as needed, but what decided that. Why did Tom insisted on Harvest getting attacked? Was it to maintain the story so that he could decided on what happens? But...but if so why couldn't he decided for Harvest now that he knew, what constituted an event worth changing. Why did he so clearly state that they were to diverge from canon and steal the rock?

He supposed it wasn't best to dwell on those thoughts. They were his actions and he would just have to work with them. He couldn't worry Arc, Vahlen or all the others with the questions, but there were times he wondered if he could have done better.

He stared at the mirror, the man in the mirror looked back. "You can do this," Tom said as he stared at his mirror. Then his eye unfocused, panicking he took a step back. He felt his body stiffen against his will, the vomit trying to come back out. The last time he felt so sick, was when he had the dream about the man in Fallout but, he couldn't remember anything like that this time.

His eyes refocused and he stared at the mirror. The man stared back at him and Tom felt his hand shift, eyes knitting together as the black suit and brown hair registered in his man. The skies of Harvest must have been covered in darkness, soot rising from the plasma burning the forests and houses. He came here to save people, but he could have done more. He could have saved more people, yet he chose not too, to let more people to die so that the future he told himself he would change would remain the same.

He was a hypocrite. Tom smiled bitterly at his mirror. "You're a damn hypocrite," he muttered then he nodded which was mimicked by the reflected image.. It looked like he was agreeing to his own words but to Tom he was talking to two different people. He should have had one of his ships above Harvest, played some game that they had business with Governor Thune. Hell, at that time he had learned how to manipulate information in a person's mind, he should have just allowed the UNSC to let him through. But why didn't he.

"You didn't think," Tom hissed, "You tried to do too many things at once. Now look at you." The reflection lowered his head, shame clear on his face and Tom thought he saw a ripple through the mirror. The face that looked so much like his own but, in his heart, was not. "We could have stopped it."

Then the mirror looked up, anger flashing in his eyes. "But what if Johnson didn't regain his inspiration to the corp!" He argued, "There were too many things going on Harvest, if we had stopped it, some of the major players of the war would be gone!"

Tom shook his head, "Like taking the rock? And destroying Eridanus Secundus? Were these not by themselves changing everything already? We could have killed the Master Chief with our decisions!" Both the men took a step back, disgust plain in their eyes. Hypocrite, they both thought...Tom thought. No was that right? It...didn't feel like him. No, there was no one else in the room.

That's right, he was talking to himself. Tom relaxed and continued staring at his mirror. The room wasn't bugged, he had Arc check and double check. His mercenaries always did the heavy lifting, even the scientists. But, that's alright, while they worked Tom would be at his little place, planning, deciding... _planning what_?

Tom furrowed his eyebrow. What was that? It sounded like his voice. Was it happening again? Tom glanced a the clock, it was getting close to _1030_ , he should be hurrying. The thought of the UNSC brass meeting sent his spine into a chill. He didn't know why, it wasn't the first time he spoke to them. He glanced down at his dress shoes and thought about why he was fighting.

He wanted to save the UNSC.

 _What have you done to realise that goal?_

He...he had his men on the events, changing history.

 _What history have you changed beyond superficial?_

Tom-...That's not!...He did change things! It was just he was in disagreement on what to do. No- no, he had doubts. Everyone should have doubts, without doubt there was no improvement. He didn't know what to do, he was learning everything from scratch. He had to learn, he had to rely on the mercenaries for now while he sorted out his thoughts.

He...wished he had more courage.

 _Like the man in the dream._

Tom nodded forlornly, his mood suddenly shifting, depression? Jealousy? He didn't quite understand. He had been having the same reoccurring dream, each of different scenarios, where a man in a duster and revolver walked down the Capital Wasteland. He shot down everyone in his way, cut up the Legion, saved a few NCR Rangers and led the Brotherhood of Steel to victory. He was...he was like him. Except, he didn't seem to have any of Tom's powers. He seemed to be normal.

That blow stung. Tom sat, at the very top of so many mercenaries that fought and bled, for a man that didn't even know what he was doing. That didn't even know how to fight for himself beyond poorly aim shots. But the man in his dreams, he had been in the Capital Wasteland with just his own fire and mettle.

There was a knock at the door and Arc called out for Tom on the other side. Tom grimaced and turned the mirror so that it's back faced him. With the mirror gone, he felt some of his earlier mood return. Focus. Tom breathed out slowly and walked towards his friend at the door. He pulled it open and saw the much taller and older male look down on him, a small smile on his face.

"UNSC HIGHCOM is waiting for you, Sir!" Arc said.

"I see, are you ready?" Tom asked. The man nodded his head with a large grin, respect and loyalty shining in his eyes. Why? Something echoed in him. The pain he felt was indescribable, the unworthiness of such feelings.

Showing nothing of his outside thoughts he followed Arc as they traversed through the hallway. He tried to shake away the feelings, maintain professionalism. His plan was simple today. He was going to make Parangosky listen to him. He was going to make her do a little soul searching with his powers. That was about as far as he could go now however.

Terence Hood was still a Captain in the UNSC Navy and from what he had heard from the current Head wasn't something he personally liked and he wasn't about to change a man's personality for fear of breaking the Universe. The most he was going to do to Parangosky was make her more lenient and less suspicious to DI but he was still paranoid with that outcome.

 _You're too scared. You lack initiative, you lack bravery. The voice echoed, Tom frowned, it started sounded less like his own._

Tom felt anger rise inside himself. He did have strength in him, just you wait.

Arc slowed his pace and Tom was confused as to why...then he saw it. Admiral Margaret Parangosky was striding down the hallway, a lean group of marines as her honor guards. While Arc was one man, Tom was confident the Mandalorian could ensure his safety.

Tom felt all the words he had accumulated in his moment of festering hatred and confusion build up inside him. He wanted to walk up to her, smug smile in place as he knocked on her door and told her off on all her wrongdoings and stupidity. Play the smart card, pour acid down on all her detrimental decisions that led to the prolonging of the Human-Covenant war rather than the end of it.

Wanted to show the other half of him that he could be that little hero that everybody wanted him to be. That he could lead this new story he had invented by himself and create something better.

But his next few steps staggered, the idea inside him breaking apart as he felt the feelings pulse. Once, twice, his brain mental fortifications broke apart and he blinked away the dark edges of his mind. He refocused, but his gut sunk, his eyes suddenly weary.

He walked towards Parangosky, Arc following his side faithfully, loyally, Tom hoped to earn that trust. He met Parangosky stride for stride and was prepared to send a swift though through his mind, make her feel his power as he tampered with her thought processes, changed the information in her mind.

But then she looked at him, and Tom faltered. Something inside him gave, the weaker side, the more irrelevant side. The steely resolve in her eyes, the crow's feet that were firmly etched onto her face. She looked at him like a predator would at an insect. _I'm better than you_. She said. No, that wasn't her voice.

 _I'm better than you_ , it pressed.

 _Yes, you are_. Tom agreed and on an instinctual level he averted his gaze. His mother had made sure to instill manners in him and when he noticed her staring at him he bowed his head, shifting out of the way to let her through. Parangosky seemed to analyse him, eyeing his DI insignia and for a split second, she smiled. It was haughty and condescending. Was this it? The man that had caused me so much problems?

She made a loud scoff and turned away. Arc had moved past her shoulder so he hadn't seen it or heard it. Tom was about to brush it off, but the feelings of inferiority kicked back in. He felt his gaze drawn in by Parangosky, eyes gleaming in...in what?

 _Jealousy._

She didn't give another glance and kept walking. Tom gritted his teeth and stared hatefully at her back, muttering curses aimed at her silently. Wait, no, that's not right.

He played out the scene again and again in his head. Everything fitting together perfectly in his mind's eye as he put her in her place.

But that wasn't the plan, the UNSC needed unity. It needed...

It needed strength.

Every retort she could have possibly made against him would have been rebuked perfectly, every argument turned mute, every accusation turned against her. It would have been perfect, no matter what route she chose, subtlety or force, he would have been ready...-

But that was in his head. In the end all of these things were only in his head. When he marched towards her, all he could do was bow his head and curse at her back. Like a petty child.

But he's not, this...isn't him.

This is how you've always lived your life.

Tom balled his fists and took off again down the hallway.

I have moments of weakness...I, haven't been able to feel satisfied in my choices but...I did what I could. I was much more confident when I was a child.

 _Then your friends started drifting. Found better people, found nicer people from the child who cried for his mother in the first year of school._

Embarrassing memories popped up, those he would rather forget. But he was a child then, he was older now, cared less and cared more. Those moments in the past weren't here in this one.

The shy and timid child that could not raise a voice against a teacher or his friend and supplemented his feelings of inferiority by pushing the people around him forward. By making them better than you and staying behind with a smile.

Tom silently snarled. That, wasn't what he did! He loved his friends, he loved his family. His brother and sister deserved the best, everyone deserved the best.

 _You revel in your weakness, for in it you make greatness. Admit it, you're selfishly selfless. You're not in her to make the Halo universe better, you're hear to fuel your sick desire and make great men greater._

Tom shook his head. No! He was here to do good, to make things right. The people that died here needed something to hold onto, something to keep them safe. He had to keep them safe. That was what he decided here! That was what he chose to do!

 _Then answer me this. Which one is right? Is it the one that scorns you or the one that defends you? Yet notice there is no one to push you forward._

Tom quietened, his fist now left open to fingers swaying in the wind. He stopped outside the meeting room he was to have with the brass. It was the issuing of the UNSC emergency powers and the coming crisis. All PMC's were to gather under the UNSC banner. DI was a special case though, they were a mercenary group and a weapons supplier. He needed to be done more tactically.

No, his company did. All Tom did was name the company, Dr Vahlen made it successful, she didn't need his input nor his direction, she was forced to by his will. Arc too had made DI feared, made it into the force it was. What has Tom done?

"Sir?" Arc gripped his shoulder and shook him awake. Tom refocused and stared at worried eyes, pure green that wished to know his safety. "Are you alright, Mandalore?"

Don't use that word! He wanted to cry out but his mind took hold, that would be impolite to say to someone who was worried about being polite! But Arc is not at fault, it's your own fault for not controlling your emotions.

There was a snarl at the other end of the hallway, and Tom turned to see a man in a formal uniform bow his head at a person he had bumped into. The aura in the room suddenly turned darker, people were staring at him, staring at each other with feelings that mirrored his own.

Tom furrowed his brow and nodded to Arc. "Sorry I got lost for a minute there," Tom said with a shaky smile. He reached forward and grabbed the handle, prepared to pull it open and meet the UNSC HIGHCOM.

Such a submissive boy you are.

The voice said one last time. The feelings fell on him heavily as he gripped the doorknob and he hissed inside his ear as he twisted and opened the door. The men looked up at him, and Tom had to let the confusion show.

One of the officers was looking down, his eyes shadowed by his cap as he silently...cried? Sniffled? While the others were looking at each other, superiority shining in their deep brown eyes. Tom glanced at the others, in several different states of moods that ranged from depressed to...smug?

Tom felt like writing today. He needed to write in his book.

 **EDIT: I rewrote this chapter because I realised it was, less ambiguous as I hoped it was and it was more direct. Also, the Journal updates that have been given in between chapters. Apparently people have been getting the wrong impression of Tom, probably a testament to bad writing. I wanted Tom to seem Indecisive and Doubtful, because his in a position that doesn't exist. To him he is literally the first of his kind so he second-guessing everything he did, but I tried to make it so that in the third POV was move relaxed and showed the outer side of Tom who knows that he has a job to do.**

 **Anyways, if people want to give me reviews and active criticism I would greatly appreciate it. This is something important to me, more than Rebirth of the UNSC, and I want to hit everything the way I had planned. If people don't like the direction of the story it's fine, I can't please anyone, but anyone pointing out any errors in spelling, grammar or misconceptions about Characters, please tell me.**


	12. Chapter 12

Arc followed briskly behind his Mandalore. The young boy had been in a two hour conversation with UNSC top brass discussing DI's place in the coming conflict.

By the UNSCs account all PMC forces were to congregate under the UNSC banner as it was a time of an unprecedented crisis. Tom had politely refused.

 _"My men will work for yours not under them_ , _"_ Tom had said. When they got angry he clarified, _"My men are a paramilitary group used to working in cells, they're not used to taking orders from the higher ups and working with infantry...why would they? They joined a PMC."_

They concided at that point and the man had left the room with a short huff. He glanced at his watch and moaned, that was Arc liked about his Mandalore, be cared about time, he would only come to a meeting as early as he can rather than on time. Gives him time to prepare for whatever was heading his way and putting him in better a position as he did have random bouts of nerves.

While they were walking Tom was muttering about Parangosky, stopping nearby marines and Officers to ask for where the old crow was. They were helpful and courteous, no doubt it was DI's reputation bleeding through.

They spent the better part of half an hour searching through the Sydney Australia UNSC HIGHCOM HQ before he gave up and returned back to his room. They were due to leave today but Tom wanted to finalise some things.

"Alright Arc get in," Tom pointed him in and the Mandalorian followed obediently. When Tom strode into the room he closed the door and surveyed his own room.

There was a strange look in his eye, as though this was the first time he had seen his own room. Then he walked up to the mirror and turned it so that it was reflecting his image. He stared at it then shrugged.

"So what do we have on the UNSC front now?" Tom asked as he sat down roughly on his chair.

Arc cleared his throat, "Alpha and Bravo will be heading into Harvest as they gather to meet the Covenant invasion. The UNSC specifically demanded for them."

"What unit are they attached to?" Tom asked as he fiddled with his suit's jacket.

"Not Johnson's nor Byrne, they're attached to the 13th ID2 Battalion." Tom nodded and fished something out of his suit, it was a piece of gum. He glanced at it, his eyes furrowing in confusion before he placed it onto the table with an odd look on his face.

"Something wrong?" Arc asked.

"I _hate_ gum. What's it doing in my suit?" He asked out loud. Arc didn't know how to respond so he just remained quiet. When that was all done with, he got up and scratched his neck.

"What about the Mandalorians and the Clones?" Tom asked wearily. A dreaded subject. What are the non-SPARTANs who could very well be SPARTANs be doing?

"They're on standby until further orders, Sir. They know they're rather sensitive to the whole battle plan." Tom scratched his cheek and nodded.

"That should be good," He nodded, "I don't know much about what happens beyond the books. My knowledge of the two decades of war is minimal at _best_. So at this point, DI is making history." He grasped Arc's hand in a Mandalorian handshake and tilted his head.

"Ugh, give me my journal it's time for me to write." Arc nodded. He reached into his armor's side compartment, where back in the day he would store sensitive equipment but now held Tom's book. He felt it an honor to carry something like this, the most barest terms of his _Mandalore_. This book was a journal of his actions and who he was as a person, it wasn't uncommon to have Mandalorians with journals as well. These journals would become powerful in the wrong hands, it can inspire, it can crush inspiration and it can completely disrupt people.

Tom took the book and pulled his chair free, flopping down on it lucidly. He sighed then turned to s free page, it was starting to lose room inside the leather cover. He fished out a pen from his pocket and stretched his wrist.

Arc had learned all the idiosyncrasies of his _Mandalore_ , he would cough now and then try to delay writing by thinking about what to write. It always happened like this, Tom loved writing but there was only so much emotion he could toss into a book.

Finally he sighed and brought his hand down on the paper. It would start with **Journal Update** at the top and he would get straight down to business, nothing too fancy like a greeting or long drawn out speech permitted to waste space.

But then his finger stilled, his eyebrow furrowed curiously as he tilted his head. He glanced at the mirror, his eyes out of focus, then returned to the book.

"Arc, did we pass by Parangosky earlier?" He asked. Arc blinked but nodded regardless. When they passed by Parangosky earlier Arc had noted Tom's sudden change in mood. He had bowed his head, a donation of respect and had muttered something underneath his breath when she passed. He didn't know what though. "Did I do anything?" Tom asked again.

"Uh, No, Sir. You let her walk by." Tom glanced down at his book again, hands lying precariously on the table as his pen was left at the center of the fold.

"Huh..." he said distractedly. Then he shrugged and wrote down the last of his sentence, cataloging his actions and making presentable in some fashion if ever needed to review it. Tom had told him that his Journal was full of doubts, 'Doubt yourself and but don't Doubt others,' was what Tom had said, 'Do you understand Arc?'

He liked to lecture, it didn't matter about what, just if he had a chance to speak he could go on about philosophical tangents for days.

Tom made a noise and closed his book, he tapped the back of it onto the table. A ritual he had gotten the habit of doing when a few years ago. Arc wasn't sure when it developed.

He handed the book back to Arc and stood up, smoothing the edges of his shirt and his pants. Tom got up and walked towards the door, he paused however when he reached the mirror.

He stared at it hard, eyes narrowed. Arc could metaphorically see the gears in his head turn. He touched the reflective glass then grinned at it.

"I look good don't I?" Tom shot at Arc. The Mandalorian laughed, it was a running joke in DI. In the office he would dress in jackets and random articles of clothing but whenever he stepped out of the office, even if it was to get coffee, he would dress like a man who had the twelve riches of the world.

"That you do, Sir," Arc agreed. Tom chuckled and pushed the mirror around as he stepped through the door.

- **John** -

John glanced around him as he stared at the hull breach caused by the UNSC _Commonwealth._ Kelly and Sam were by his side and they tapped his shoulder. John nodded, flexing his fingers as he gripped the ME-1 RAR then jumped down inside.

They landed roughly in the purple material of the ship, John was mesmerized at the strange feeling settling his stomach. He glanced left and right, weapon raised and prepared to fire. He moved forward, flanked by Sam and Kelly who had their weapons held close to their chest.

Then he stopped and made low sweep over the next corridor. "Clear," he intoned. Kelly strode up behind him and crouched next a to a cylinder by the door.

"An access panel?" She muttered. John shrugged and Sam continued to keep his eyes down the corridor. She pressed one button and gas eased out of the top of the door, she pressed enough and it came to life. The door whooshed open and all three SPARTANs twisted around to meet an alien standing in front of them blankly.

The creature glanced at them then a wide arcing shield appeared in front of it. The SPARTANs opened fire, spraying rounds into the shield at point blank range. It didn't stand a chance but it managed to get three shots off.

The green flashes of plasma struck his armor, the Beskar dispersing the heat and the PCV taking the brunt of the force. John hadn't felt anything. His moved forward with his teammates and crouched on the ground as he noted movement.

There was a trio of creatures and they squawked like birds when they saw the SPARTANs. Their shields lit up and they prepared to fire.

Sam decided that they were a waste of bullets and launched a grenade in the middle of their ranks. The aliens could only drop twisted around before the HE grenade exploded, sending shrapnel and fire into their body. Kelly raced down the length of the ship, her faster speed making her a blur before slowing down just enough to hug the wall. John and Sam had likewise dispersed as a door at the other end opened.

It was a creature with a split jaws and legs that looked like he could kick the Master Chief back. John waited until they were at the center of the room before firing, both Kelly and Sam at their flanks with John at the front.

The aliens roared and their personal shielding held out against their onslaught as each SPARTAN had to concentrate on one. The head alien rushed down and pulled out some sort of sword.

John took an involuntary step back in surprise. The creature rushed his position sensing the sudden lull and slammed its shoulder into him. John, wasn't what you would say light. He was heavy but he didn't match Sam, to add to this suit was very light so he was probably weighing nothing more than his own body weight.

So it came to no surprise when the alien lifted him up, but John had reached quickly and brought his vibroblade. Now that he was above the alien he slammed the bladed weapon down onto its back, where its spine should be, before twisting. The alien howled then stumbled to the ground, flailing uselessly.

The next alien went down with Kelly popped as many shots as she can in his head while Sam slammed his shoulder into the alien's gut while boosting forward with his jetpack.

"That's not a bad move," John commented as he stared at the SPARTAN. Sam grinned from underneath the helmet, John only able to tell with him lifting his shoulders.

There was squawking down the hallway and John grimaced. "Kelly set the charges," John ordered. She nodded and ran towards the point in the room with the most radiation that had made them arrive there in the first place.

Another troupe of aliens came in, a mix of the birds and a new tint squat creatures. John and Sam immediately opened fire. The squat aliens died first while the others pulled out shields and formed a phalanx.

John aimed his grenade launcher and fired, aiming so it landed right at the aliens doorstep. The grenade exploded, sending them into the air and crashing towards the ground. They spasmed before turning cold.

More aliens started pouring in and John retracted his arm, only two grenades left in the launcher. Sam opened fire, diving for cover as a spray of pink colored needles flew over head. John did the same but he managed to get a clean shot at the bird creature that fired.

The next five minutes ended up like that, weapons fire of a grand scale. They exchanged fire, plasma and strange crystal weaponry exchanged between the two groups. John ducked underneath the coming onslaught and slowly retreated backwards.

His cover had been turned to a smoldering crisp, nothing but a stump of metal as plasma fire cascaded off. Another one of those larger aliens stepped through, racing forward with a hand gripping a plasma weapon. It opened its split jaw at the SPARTANs and brought its weapons up and fired.

"Priority target, the alien in blue!" John ordered. Sam acknowledged the order and shifted his fire onto the creature. Out in the open the creature couldn't escape the crossfire between the two of them and he fell down without a fuss. The rest of the aliens retreated, now that their leader was dead they lost their rallying point and thus their will to fight.

John lowered his weapon and ran towards Kelly who had finished priming the bomb. John nodded and turned towards Sam who was keeping an out for anymore aliens. "Look out!" He hissed and pushed John to the side.

A little staut creature carrying what looked to be an alien version of a rocket launcher had popped out of cover. It fired the weapon then was promptly shot by Sam who pushed John out of the way. The ball of green energy rose into the air then crashed down in front of Sam.

The air warped and the Petty Officer was launched backwards, slamming into the ground with a groan. John twisted up to his feet and scanned the area for any more hostiles, letting Kelly deal with Sam.

"I'm Ok," he said, "The PCV is at seventeen percent though..."

"Is your suit compromised?" John asked. Sam answered with a negative and he nodded his head. _Good_.

Both of them hopped to their feet and grabbed their rifles, Kelly double checking the charges before giving John a thumbs up. "More will be on the way," Kelly said.

John nodded,"Sam can you turn our grenades into makeshift claymore?' John asked. The larger SPARTAN nodded and took both John's and Kelly's HE grenades before setting them up along the doorway, close enough to keep the aliens guessing their steps but far enough that they wouldn't detonate one after the other.

"How long did you set the time?" John asked Kelly.

"Two and a half minutes," She replied. John nodded.

"SPARTANs! Move!"

- **Desmond** -

He watched as the Covenant ship blew, a large billowing fire that rose high in the sky. The other SPARTANs who had missed their trajectory had arrived back on the _Commonwealth_ and he heard them make a silent cheer for their comrades.

It was subtle but he could see. He had done the same before too back when he was still training to be an Assassin. A pat on the shoulder, a shake of an arm or just flexing their finger. Each carried their own meaning.

Fhajad was there, smiling at his brothers and sisters as he recorded the battle and the suit's performance. "Well done," Desmond said.

He turned around, some of the SPARTANs had their helmets off and he smiled at all of them. Some of them glanced away, embarrassed but not showing it, while others met his stare evenly. "On this day, the SPARTANs are now a fully recognised unit. Good luck, not all battles are going to be easy like this."

The SPARTANs saluted Desmond, since John wasn't there Fred took the spot, and together they said, "Sir, Yes, Sir!"

Fhajad however looked longingly at his fellow brothers and sisters and Desmond clasped a sturdy hand around his shoulder. "Don't worry," he said gently, "everyone has a part to play."

- **Volpe** -

Volpe shook his head as he pointed at the paper on the desk. "It's better if you keep reports with as little words as possible," Volpe explained as Serin sat at the desk. The young scrutinized the paper and nodded after a moment's hesitation.

"Yes, Commander," Serin muttered. Volpe nodded in satisfaction as he moved across the room. The rejected SPARTANs were all gathered here, becoming analysts and ONI scientists to the cause of creating better weaponry. Every one of them was bright, shining stars of human evolution.

Smarter than him but undoubtedly young and lacking. La Volpe thought this was a job better suited to Ezio who had recreated the Order from scratch but nonetheless he took his job to heart.

Some ONI Lieutenants walked by, trying to have a chat with the SPARTANs but Volpe had turned them away. He knew who they were, they were Parangosky's propaganda team trying to sway the rejects opinion against Halsey.

The woman hated the scientist, for what reason he did not know, and Volpe was starting to get irritable. "Sir, reports came in from a Lieutenant Commander Ezio in charge of security on New Mombasa." Musa said as he took a place next to. Volpe nodded and took the paper.

Before tossing it aside and grabbing his face. The SPARTANs stopped what they were doing, eyes shining in surprise at their commanding officer who was rubbing his face. "Serin, Musa, the two of you are coming with me. We're heading to Earth. Matthews you're in charge while I'm gone."

Matthews wasn't a SPARTAN reject, rather an ONI analyst that Volpe had taken a liking to. He had started molding the young man to fit the ideals of the Assassins. Why not turn the whole office of ONI into Assassin-like people. He says like because he had no intention in formally creating an Order in the future.

Rubbing his eyes he turned around and stalked off the building. Serin and Musa in tow, "Tom going to love this," he muttered.

 **This story is a self-insert and Tom reflects my character as a person. He is indecisive, paranoid and doubts everything he does even if he does something right. Is it pessimism? Idk, I never took a course in psychology. Low self-esteem probably. To him, he is not the greatest person nor is he average, he is terrible. However he knows this is unhealthy and knows how to make himself smile. He's not a ghoul trying to win sympathy points, he keeps thoughts to himself which is why the Journals are so full of doubt and questions.**

 **But I am not justifying his behaviour in the last chapter. It is however anyone interprets it and how you interpret it, makes the story.**


	13. Chapter 13

Volpe grimaced as he stepped off the transport that had transported him from the Orbital Station to the New Mombasa ONI headquarters. He was flanked by both Musa and Serin, who while young looked every bit the mean and menacing ONI Operative in the uniform.

Volpe strode off the pelican, straightening his jacket from the hour flight between Earth and ONI Mobile Headquarters. Serin was next to him, typing some data into a pad while Musa kept his hands straight on his sides.

Volpe could sense the boy was watching everything carefully, eyeing the various ONI Security Personnel marching back and forth.

"Lieutenant Ezio Auditore is still two hours away from Earth, Sir," Serin said as she kept pace with the much older and much sturdier male but she had been trained by Mendez of all people. If she could survive that then she could survive the older man tugging her along.

Musa on the other hand was struggling. His legs were partially damaged by the augmentation procedure and he kept walking. Volpe knew the boy had a grudge against ONI and Dr Halsey, he could understand where he was coming from but Volpe just hoped the kid could keep his cool without lashing out at anyone.

"Musa, have you been reading the report while on the way here?" Volpe asked. Musa turned to him, his face smoothed a little as he registered Volpe's face. The Assassin was glad that Desmond had spent so much time with the SPARTANs, it had allowed the rejects to almost seamlessly accept the man that shared many similarities with the Section Zero agent.

"Yes, Sir!" He replied, the training he underwent with Mendez ingrained into his mind. Volpe nodded, satisfied and told him to recite it.

"At 0400 hours yesterday morning, a convoy transporting several Beskar armor heading to the Marine Expeditionary Force, 1st Battalion, 2nd Division, was attacked. The drivers were killed and the Beskar armor taken. Following this, at 1200 hours, a freighter broke off from its planned route and took a slipspace portal to Epsilon Eridanus." Volpe nodded, satisfied.

"Sir, if I may ask, what exactly permits our involvement in a strictly UNSC and Navy business?" Serin asked. Volpe was at least glad the girl didn't seem to carry a grudge against either Halsey or ONI but she did have a hefty baggage against the Innies. Something along the lines of, _I should be out there fighting you_ , type of feeling. Volpe wasn't sure that was a good thing.

"What was Dimensional Interventions policy on the transport of their weapons and armor?" Volpe asked, he knew but he wanted to see just how far the two of SPARTAN rejects had been learning.

"All armor and weapons must be transported under strict supervision by both an ONI agent and a UNSC Officer. The route which the weapons and armor take, either on land or space, must be indiscriminate and redacted from any documents. Each shipment is to be tagged with a transmitter in the case of robbery and subterfuge with members of DI in place inside the convoy to make sure the demands are met. In the event that the weapons are successfully stolen the UNSC fleet must eliminate the threat and either retrieve or destroy the armor." Serin recited. Volpe nodded.

Now that the weapons were stolen, the UNSC Navy had to pick up the pace in order to meet the agreement they set with DI but Volpe didn't care about that... _yet._ What he did care was the fact that not only was the route the convoy was taking had been discovered, the weapons transmitter had gone dark and the HECU Marines stationed with the convoy had been taken out before any of them had fired a shot.

That smiled like a story any Assassin loved... _a mole was in the ranks._ And that was not something to rejoice for, Tom had been very adamant about his weapons being touched by anyone not UNSC, and he was not lenient on the matter.

Apparently Musa derived the same concept as he said this not a moment later. Volpe twitched his upper lip into a smile as they entered a room in the ONI Headquarters. Serin glanced at the series of cubicles all laid out in a neat fashion, her hands raised slightly in case she needed to move, with Musa striding in between a group of ONI SP and his commanding officer.

 _Good kids_ , Volpe muttered. A lieutenant on the other end of the hallway stood up and made his way towards them. He frowned at them and his eyes lingered on Volpe's rank stitched to his side.

The man stopped in front of Volpe and kept his face as blank as he could, which to the Assassin was not enough. "What kind I help you with, Sir?" The man asked, glancing warily at Musa and Serin.

Volpe grinned politely then shoved the report into his face. The man took an involuntary step back to shield his face before taking it out of Volpe's hand.

The Italian Assassin waited and reveled in the seat that formed on top of the Lieutenants eyebrow. "The incident, Sir. I see, it's being dealt with by our agents-"

"I do not care what your agents are doing," Volpe interjected, "I'm investigating this matter. Or would you rather I call Section Zero?" The sweat doubled across his face and he stuttered.

"N-No Sir! That- that wouldn't be wise at all. Of course ask anything you need and I will assist you." The man said. Volpe nodded and asked for the two officers that were involved in the incident.

"Captain Torres was killed in the attack, Sir. The only survivor of the two was Lieutenant Mcdowell, an Army Officer attached to the convoy," The Lieutenant replied.

"What about the DI Operatives, any of them alive?" Volpe asked, a little hopeful. The boy had just shook his head in response, making Volpe grimace. Tom was very serious about DI soldier's life, and would be extremely upset if one of them dies.

Volpe nodded and turned back to the front, eyes gleaming with intelligence as he watched the ONI Lieutenant fidget in place. "Who was given access to the information?"

"No one, Sir. As per protocol."

"Alright then, what of Lieutenant McDowell?"

"He's currently registered in Stanford Memorial Hospital, Sir!"

Musa shifted next to Volpe, the young lad was sizing the Lieutenant up and down but kept his tongue in check. "Thank you, as you were," Volpe said.

The Lieutenant nodded and turned, Volpe hearing a distinct click of a tongue as he walked back to his cubicle. Volpe smothered his lips into a thin line but ignored it as he traveled out of the building.

"Serin had Ezio informed us of when he is arriving?" Volpe asked.

"He is currently two days away from reaching Earth, Sir," Serin said dutifully, her lips in a frown.

"Musa are you still in contact with Matthews at ONI Mobile Headquarters?"

Musa seemed surprised by what Volpe said and he quickly fished out his datapad, tapping a few times to get the desired function. "I am now, Sir."

Volpe didn't comment on his actions and simply said, "Get Matthews to run some research on both Lieutenant McDowell and Captain Torres, I want to know everything about them ASAP."

Musa nodded his head and started typing commands onto his data pad. The Italian Assassin felt satisfied that everything was going to plan and called up a car to his side.

"I'll drive," Musa said as he stepped up to the car. But he was stopped short as Volpe placed his hand on his chest and gently pushed him back.

"No," he said plainly, "You're fourteen."

Musa looked offended, "I know how-"

"No," Volpe pressed. Defeated the young cadet opened the backseat door and slid in, ignoring Serin's silent snickering at his expense.

"At least I'm not a scavenger," Musa muttered underneath his breath. That earned him a less than subtle kick to the shin.

Volpe couldn't help the smile that worked its way on his face as he watched. _Ah, children. They make me feel so old._

- **Tom** -

"Ughhhhh this is too much work," Tom groaned as he swung in a wide circle around his office chair. Arc was standing next to him, arms crossed over his Mandalorian chest plate as he stared at a half-full whiteboard full of mathematical calculations.

"I left school because I flunked math, why am I doing it again!" Tom cried out in anguish as he stared at X/Yz^1G with a more than troubled look on his face. "What do these letters even mean in this context?!"

"I agree," Arc said, "I don't see how this benefits us."

Dr Vahlen sighed as she gripped the markers in her hand, the older woman cupping her eyes and leaning heavily against the wall. "We need to see the mathematical odds of Preston Cole holding out against the Covenant. He may have upgraded ships with PCVs and Beskar but he still has a chance of becoming vulnerable if a particularly nasty Elite is at the helm."

"Like Thel 'Vadamee leading the fleet? That's impossible, I doubt he's a Shipmaster yet," Tom argued, chewing on the back end of his marker. Vahlen looked at him like he had spit in his drinking cup.

"Perhaps the Arbiter before him? Or any other Elites of considerable skill that you lack knowledge of?" Vahlen insisted.

Tom scrunched his face together," You've spent way too much time with Bravo and Desmond," he complained.

"You don't expect me to have a chat with Freeman do you?" Tom concided her point and stood up, hands tucked neatly behind his back as he stared at the whiteboard again.

" _Still_ , I doubt we can figure this out with math- and before you interrupt me in arguing that everything can be solved with math, I'm a gut-feeling type of guy Dr Vahlen the notion of numbers coming up with predictions just turns me off," Tom said as he pushed lightly against the whiteboard.

Vahlen sighed and crossed her arms over her chest, "I concede. I suppose we can just make a guess on that matter."

"But this is a serious issue. I'm not worried about ground battles, the UNSC always outmatched the Covenant in those instances but space battles had always been the short stick. One of the more baffling things about the Halo universe was just _how_ they could populate their fleets at all with the amount of casualties they sustain regularly."

"People are willing to serve when their existence is put into threat. Not to mention the UNSC has a registered two hundred worlds. It's not exactly out of the blue," Vahlen interjected.

"Careful Doctor, your tone is starting to ," Arc joked. Vahlen shot him an annoyed glance and the Mandalorian raised his hands in defeat with a chuckle.

Tom however continued staring at the whiteboard, eyes knitted together as he tried to find a solution to his problem. "You know, Thel 'Vadamee could still be put to use," Tom said, interrupting the two other people in the room. He made an apologetic face when he realised that but continued on with what he was saying, "The Sangheili, hell, most of the Covenant species is being pulled by their collar because of Truth, Mercy and Regret. Furthermore, the beginning of Truth's reign is, right now, in its infancy. He hasn't perfectly quelled the benefactors he's made empty promises with and there is still much to do for him to solidify himself as the Prophet of Truth."

"Where are you getting at?" Vahlen asked.

"I'm trying to say that Truth probably still hasn't sold the complete idea of Humans as their enemies. Right now the Covenant probably only sees us as heretics, nothing more and even if they do, I'm sure a lot of them are questioning the sudden genocide without any regard for subjugation," Tom scratched his chin. "But it all boils down to exactly how we deliver a message that their Prophet is lying in a way that won't fuel their desire to kill us even more?"

"343 Guilty Spark?" Vahlen asked.

Arc's face soured, "I'd rather not have him talking to a fanatic religious race." Tom nodded in agreement and cupped his chin.

"Midnight has the job of watching over Guilty Spark and helping him in the event that the Covenant finds the ring, which is unlikely but better safe than sorry. So...Mendicant Bias?" Tom said, an eyebrow raised. "If I recall correctly he was destroyed by Regret or was it Mercy? I can't possibly remember."

Vahlen shook her head, "Is that even possible, you've never really tried to _spawn_ an object from this universe before."

"Incorrect my dear Vahlen," Tom said while wagging a finger, "I spawned plenty of Halo weapons during DI's first years. Though a robotic intelligence would be different. But then there is the added pain that neither you nor Arc actually remember their past to any extent."

Vahlen furrowed her brow in confusion, "That's not true, I remember all my colleagues and the research I did. However everything else is fuzzy."

Arc shrugged his shoulders when they turned to him. "Yuuzhan Vong," he said, "That's all I remember and not even Tom knows what that is."

"Sorry I'm not too deep in Star Wars mythology," Tom apologised. Arc waved it away and looked back at the board.

"We can always create a new Monitor and send it out to the Covenant," Vahlen suggested.

Tom scratched his cheek as he thought about it, "I...don't know. The Monitors I create don't follow their naming protocols and their not assigned to Halo's. Furthermore Midnight doesn't seem to have any knowledge about the Forerunners or the Rings, she is a blank slate that is learning all she can from Spark."

"That does present a problem," Arc agreed.

"Indeed, but I think the best chance we have on the liberation front is the Kig-Yar," Tom said.

"How so?" The Mandalorian asked, an interested expression on his face.

"The Kig-Yar aren't devout believers, or at least not most of them. They're only serving the Covenant for monetary gains. The Kig-Yar have been known to engage in peaceful relations with humans with a better reputation than the Sangheili. Some even regretted the order to kill the humans on The Rubble. Their pirates and will accept anyone so long as they benefit economically from it," Tom said.

Vahlen cupped her chin, nodding conspiratorially as she thought about it. "That could work, however not all of the Kig-Yar might join forces with us," Vahlen added.

Tom shrugged, "Doesn't matter, the Sangheili barely trust them as it is, what with their pirating ways and if some of their kind decides to join humanity then that just makes it easier for us when the Kig-Yar within the Covenant are fielded less and less."

"You say you don't know Halo lore well but you can fish out something like this?" Arc said shrewdly.

Tom smiled sheepishly, "Don't judge me. I prefer reading up wiki pages on different alien lifestyles then read books."

Arc chuckled and Vahlen started typing away on a data pad. "We would still have to deal with the civilian aftermath, they probably won't be happy about aliens joining their side after the disastrous first contact."

Tom raised both eyebrows, raising his hands as he said, "Hello? Man that can manipulate minds!"

"You said you can only affect how people perceive things not make them agreeable," Arc frowned.

Tom couldn't help but smack his forehead at what Arc said. "Arc do you not know what perceive means?" The Mandalorians frown deepened.

"Alright, alright," Tom surrendered, "The thing is that I can affect how they perceive things. I can just have them think that the Kig-Yar is great and good," Tom said.

"Sounds like a plan but how are we going to get to the Kig-Yar homeworld or meet a Kig-Yar even," Vahlen said as she stepped briskly to her lab.

"Last I check ONI still had a Kig-Yar ship mistress on hand didn't they?" Tom said.

"We'll have to go through Parangosky," Arc warned. Tom could only smile, his hands outstretched forward as he cracked his fingers.

"Trust me, I got this. The old crow has nothing on me. Just wished I had gotten to her sooner though, I had no idea we passed by Parangosky back at Sydney." Tom said as he bounced on the balls of his feet.

"I'm prepared trust me," Tim assured. "ONI is a fuck up, always will be. Cleaning house ain't a bad thing."

Arc still seemed hesitant but nonetheless head. "Fine but I'm coming with." He said, his voice brokering now compromise.

Tom sighed insufferably, "I feel like Dorothy, Vahlen help me!" But the woman had already disappeared and Tom cursed. "Old hag," he said disdainfully.

Then he got punched on the back of his head. "Ow," he groaned.

Arc crossed his arms again and stared back at the whiteboard. "Can we please now move on to what you want to do about the Clones and Manth Ma?'

Tom looked at Arc as though he had grown a second head. "What do you expect? The Mandalorians are shock troopers, what's more shocking than having your enemy deep within your own lines and wreaking havoc with plasma weaponry and an indestructible ship? And the Clones? Well, yea those guys are difficult because four guys with the same face will bring suspicion."

"We can have them on Insurrectionist duty," Arc suggested. Tom's face immediately soured.

"I completely forgot about them," he said gruffly, "but that's a good idea. We'll go with that."

Yawning before Arc could reply, Tom glanced at his watch with a frown. "I need to go to bed. I really don't want to see what happens tomorrow if I wake up late." Arc let out a small laugh and allowed Tom to go.

As Tom walk, he couldn't help but smile a little bit as he watched the HECU move back and forth and exchange greetings. Everyone doing as they should.

Then he turned on his phone, checked and read Ezio's report...then exploded in a fit of anger.


	14. Chapter 14

Ezio winced as he stepped out of his prowler-class ship, the UNSC _Torrent of Rain_ and turned off his communicator. He had just gotten out of an ear-lashing with Tom, who while understanding of the situation, was none too pleased that Insurrectionists had gotten his equipment.

The Insurrectionist was a thorn in the UNSC side before and during the Covenant war, if they stupidly tried to use the weapons and armor on a UNSC planet while the main UNSC Battlegroup X-Ray were fighting off the Covenant, then nothing could be done to stop them save the SPARTANs.

That was disconcerting, even Ezio can realise how difficult it could be to fight a three pronged war, with one side happening internally while the other was external.

Ezio marched down the last steps that would take him onto the port and smiled when he saw Volpe in the crowd, hidden to the normal eye, and flanked by two young children in uniform.

The older Assassin caught Ezio's eye and gestured towards the exit. Ezio nodded and took off his ONI SP cap and tucked it into his pocket. Unlike Volpe and Desmond who were Section III and Section Zero respectively, Ezio was a Security Officer for New Mombasa Headquarters. It was a lot easier for him to understand as there was only one other person of equal rank relatively to his as opposed to several in Volpe's and Desmond's case.

Ezio fell in step next to Volpe, the two children looking at him curiously but not intruding on their chat. "Were you able to find anything? I only got news of the attack while out near Luna before I could double back."

Volpe nodded and stared impassively at the crowd while pulling the hood of his officers hat to cover his eyes. "I interviewed Lieutenant McDowell. At exactly 10 00 hours the convoy passed Checkpoint C on its shipment before the first truck had to stop because of a blown out tire. The HECU stepped out to check, with the UNSC Marines assigned with them kept over watch. The tires then blew, reminiscent to Johnson and Byrne discovery of the tire bombs on Tribute."

"How did they get the wheels onto the truck?" Ezio wondered.

Volpe pulled out a set of papers and passed it to Ezio, "The trucks had recently underwent a fix-up through several workshops and garages, one of which was sold at an especially cheap price with top-notch service," Volpe said and Ezio noticed the male SPARTAN puff out his chest. He probably found out about the information.

"Toby's Quick Fix," Ezio muttered the name, "sounds like a drug store." Volpe chuckled and flipped the page so Ezio could keep reading it.

"It's attached to a drug store called Change up," Ezio read, "Da fuq?" Serin glanced at annoyance in the breach of proper respect but Ezio ignored it as he continued to read through the paper.

"There's nothing on Change up that's suspicious but the person in charge of the garage had a son who served in the UNSC marines who died from a malfunction in a UNSC destroyer that vented all atmosphere from the ship," Ezio read, "The day has yet ended and already my heart grows heavy."

Musa seemed to glance at Ezio with contempt, a frown on his face, but he continued to keep in pace with the two older men. "But it is a well and good motive to support an Insurrectionist group, is it not?" Volpe said, always the shrewd and calculating Assassin with a passion. While Machiavelli had the mind, he didn't always have the fervor, and while Volpe lacked the philosophy he had the knowledge.

Ezio missed these two men butting heads in his council chambers, it made for interesting entertainment. "Yes, it does. It wouldn't be difficult for him to replace the trucks usual wheels with the bombs."

"Yes," Volpe agreed, "But that doesn't explain how the Insurrectionists were able to get around the battle so well. Once the HECU were eliminated the Marines had been taken out with precise rockets which destroyed the dummy trucks and left the ones with the armor and equipment completely untouched."

Ezio nodded, "And they also ignored the dummy convoys going parallel with this one. This is an inside job," Ezio agreed. "What about the transmitter?"

"Disabled, completely with no trace of how," Volpe said, "One could say they just turned it off."

Ezio grimaced, "Someone definitely gave them the information. It's very detailed information as well, so it had to be someone from higher up the brass, or someone who was intimately involved in the convoys planning."

"That distinction is shared between Captain Torres and Lieutenant McDowell as well as the Head of Staff in the New Mombasa base as well as the Operations Chief," Volpe informed.

"Damn," Ezio muttered.

"I beg your pardon, Sirs," Serin cut in. The group stopped as both Volpe and Ezio turned to address her. The turkish girl didn't seem perturbed by the attention and calmly continued, "But I wasn't made aware that regular Security Personnel were made privy to official ONI business."

She looked suspiciously at Ezio who raised an amused eyebrow. "That's classified la Signorina, ONI inner workings are a lot more befuddled than you think," Ezio chuckled. Serin frowned but Musa raised his hand to quell her curiosity.

"Pardon my intrusion then, Sirs," Serin apologised.

Ezio seemed impressed with that, he had seen many young recruits in the Assassin get flustered and put off at getting sent the other way by him when asked about his plans. Deciding to play ball Ezio parted with some information, "I'm not exactly a full-time Security Personnel, I have other work that may not be out of place for ONI field officers."

Musa narrowed his eyes at him and Serin seemed surprised. Two completely opposite reactions, Ezio thought he liked both of the kids.

Volpe grunted, looking none too pleased with his comrade's decision. Ezio smiled sheepishly and looked to the horizon, "So, are we heading to this Toby's Quick Fix or not?"

- **Tom** -

He rubbed his eyes, face masked in anger as he waited inside the ship. He did not like the idea of the Innies having his weapons, that was like a fork being shoved up his metaphorical ass.

The Covenant war was already taxing his ability to predict and understanding but humans fighting against humans would in the end just piss him off too much and make his decisions more frustrated than precise. He was after all easily frustrated and like hell he was going to let that side show in front of Vahlen and Arc.

"I want the Commandos on Innie duty yesterday. They fought against the CIS, they know how to deal with a rebel faction," Tom reached into his pocket and pulled out a mint, he popped it in his mouth and grimaced as its taste drifted through his senses.

Arc nodded beside him as they stepped off onto the ONI Mobile Headquarters. Usually this place would be off-limits to everyone, even UNSC top brass without proper authorisation, but Tom was special. Due to DI's interesting position as a paramilitary force and how they are now considered, honorary members of Navy Special Warfare Command, they had certain liberties given to them. Of course it was much more deepers and zig-zagging than that, so much so that Tom had to study up comparable to a university student just to keep up, but the results were the same.

There was a squad of ONI SP at every corner, all conversing with each other and sharing little stories and facts. But Tom knew they were there to watch him, or at least he suspected it, while Arc made sure to keep his helmet on.

Tom ignored them and kept moving, his mind only focused on one person. He slowed his movements when he saw her, moving down the hallway by herself as though she was just taking a stroll.

Tom spread a smile wide, he'd open with the initiative, if he didn't Parangosky might just ignore him or take advantage of that. He stepped up and extended a hand to her, "Parangosky, I presume?"

The woman feigned surprise, something that Tom could only tell after years of playing liar with the UNSC. The woman grasped his hand and shook it, a neutral look on her face. "I had heard that you were arriving," Parangosky stated, "I had not expected you to be so young."

A little prod into his personality, some hunting, "I can hardly imagine, we bumped into each other on the base at Sydney didn't we?" Tom said.

Parangosky kept her face incredibly well-controlled, "I'm afraid I have no recollection of that memory, I was present st Sydney HQ recently but I only stayed for so long. I am a busy woman after all."

Tom frowned, a brief lapse in his concentration that he let show, before he tried to smother it with a cough. He spied Arc at the corner who too seemed confused by her answer.

Tom allowed a moment to consider his options quickly. Parangosky could be lying, but for such a small detail, what could she hope to achieve? Perhaps she couldn't remember but that was even less likely. As the Head of DI, he was on her shit list so it was unlikely she wouldn't remember it. Maybe she really just didn't feel like answering him truthfully, and if so then his conversation with her in the now was going to be painfully one-sided.

"How goes the research on the alien craft?" Tom tried to change the subject.

"That is classified information," Parangosky replied evenly. Tom internally winced, but was able to find an excuse faster than he realised.

"You forget I had two Operatives on Harvest during the invasion, working alongside one of your agents. Contrary to popular belief, my men have eyes and ears too." Tom and Parangosky stared at each other, the younger male keeping eye contact even if he felt like breaking away and staring at his feet. He never liked looking at people's eyes, felt too personal, but he wasn't going to lose to Parangosky.

"Yes, I do remember," Parangosky replied, "but what business do you have here today?"

"Have your linguists decoded the alien language," he asked his own question. Parangosky was going to reply with another dead end but Tom quickly changed that. Tom could change how people thought and understood but if he changed too much, twisted the perspective too far, he was afraid the universe might crack from the pressure. So instead of changing her mind, he infused her with a single emotion. Curiosity.

"Why do you ask?" She said. Tom hummed and looked past her shoulder to where he knew the alien ship was held.

"Because mine have," Tom stated bluntly. Parangosky gave no outward indication of surprise or interest, only a purse of her lips.

"Oh? And what do you plan to do?" Tom frowned, this time letting it show. His patience suddenly wore thin at the mind game. He breathed outwards, slowly calming himself down and pulled out a set of papers.

"I had GW copy the files he borrowed from the alien ship. Both the Kig-Yar ship and the Jiralhanae ship, Rapid Conversion." Parangosky took the files and slowly read through it, her eyebrows slightly slanted in concentration.

"Kig-Yar, Jiralhanae, Sangheili and San-Shyuum, this is quite an impressive list, some of them have also yet been discovered by our forces." Tom could taste the veiled accusation.

"Just what my people are able to get," Tom shrugged. "Of course I recommend you read the Kig-Yar which is the same species as the one you have in custody. Hopefully you have yet chopped it up to tiny pieces."

Parangosky narrowed her eyes at him and Tom took a moment to reel himself back in.

Sarcasm can be mistaken for impudence after all...or wait did they mean the same thing?

"The Kig-Yar is a pirate race, monetary gain over allegiances...why are you showing this to me?" Parangosky asked, her skepticism showing.

"Parangosky piracy is no new thing for you, I should know' I've built a company that surrounds that dark underside. We have an enemy and in that enemy, we have a whole _race_ that can change allegiances with a literal dime," Tom said. Paragonsky watched him like a hawk.

"Of course if it ends up not going well for us," Tom gestured his head to a specific page. One that prioritizes the Kig-Yar's laughable fleet of pirate ships without slipspace drives and their homeworld Eayn. "Theres the smart way around that problem to take them out of the picture."

Tom patted himself on the back for his acting! Paragonsky seemed to still be processing and Tom decided to do a little change up.

Making her trust him was perhaps a little too out of character for her, it might result in a reboot that might take who knows how long. So instead he made her feel a different emotion, a different form of understanding. Interest.

That was enough for the stubborn woman and she nodded. "I will take your words into consideration," she said. Tom frowned, it wasn't what he wanted but he hoped that even if Paragonsky didn't listen to his idea she would still take the innumerable possible avenues now open to her.

And Tom knew she would.

\- **Preston Cole** -

Rear Admiral Cole suppressed a frown as he watched his ships line up next to his command ship, the UNSC Everest. He cupped his chin, reading through the various advancements and technological differences from the ships he was used to.

He had a total of fifty-five ships under his command, far more than he anticipated. He had to admit he was impressed, he had been off the force for only a few years and the ship specs were far out of his own depth.

 **Halcyon-Class Light Frigates:** Five inch Beskar armor plating with underlying PCV material. Armed with forty Archer Missile Pods, two Fast-Action Mass Drivers (Newly installed ship-to-ship cannons designed by Dimensional Intervention) and three squadrons of Casper-Class Space Superiority Fighters.

 **Strength:** Twenty.

 **Paris-Class Heavy Frigate:** Titanium AA armor plating with underlying PCV material. Armed with thirty-two Archer Missile Pods and three Point Defense Turrets for Fighter screening. One Squadron of Casper-Class Space Superiority Fighters. Four Fast-Action Mass Drivers.

 **Strength** : Ten.

 **Epoch-Class Heavy Carrier:** Ten inch Beskar armor plating, with one MAC Gun and two hundred Archer missiles attached to ship fins. Armed with a Point Defense Turret at its front and Forty Casper-Class Space Superiority Fighters.

 **Strength** : Two (Note; Newly designed and minted ships)

 **Marathon-Class Heavy Cruiser:** Forty inch Beskar armor plating without PCV underlying. Two MAC Guns improved for faster charging time and faster round velocity.

 **Strength:** Eight.

 **Diligence-Class Destroyer:** Eighteen inch Titanium-A battleplate with four Fast-Action Mass Drivers and four Point Defense Turrets. Two underslung Oversized Archer missile pods with eighty missiles each and eight Archer missiles pods attached to their sides.

 **Strength:** Ten.

 **Gorgon-Class Heavy Destroyer:** Ten inch battleplate with one MAC gun and two underslung Fast-Action Mass Drivers. Helix Point Defense System and an upgraded Electronic Warfare Suite with dedicated AI dumb AI servers.

 **New Class Role** : Command Ship escort and technical support ship.

 **Strength:** Four.

 **Valiant-Class Super-Heavy Cruiser** : Fourteen inch Beskar armor plating and a dedicated PCV lining. Four MAC Guns, fourteen Point Defense Turrets and two-thousand and four-hundred dedicated Archer missiles. One-hundred and five Shiva-class nuclear missiles with three Fast-Action Mass Drivers.

 **Strength:** One.

Cole was damned impressed with what the UNSC Navy was able to muster and he was prepared to meet the alien threat. He was prepared and focused, knowing better than to be caught of guard or too haughty in his command.

While he waited the Ground Commanders were preparing the defence of Harvest's surface if the enemy broke through their lines. Hundreds of thousands of UNSC Marines and Army personnel set up on Harvest capital city of Utgard and outlying towns as they prepared for the worst.

Cole could feel it in his bones. The Campaign for Harvest was about to begin.

"Sir, contacts are approaching through Slipspace!" The science officer shouted as he turned to Cole. The Rear Admiral kept his fingers stapled, forehead pressed against his hands as his eyes were closed.

"They're exiting Slipspace! Forty-two confirmed contacts! Wait, three more just entered at the fleets flanks, forty-five enemy ships! Corvettes to Carrier class!" The man exclaimed even louder.

Cole opened his eyes and rested his back on his command chair. The UNSC ships were beginning to get into formation, the destroyers moving forward, prepared to take heavy fighter screenings with their PDF's and the Cruisers just behind them with their MAC Guns heating up. While that was happening the Cruisers already began to pour out their Caspers, their fighters forming a shield between the alien vessels and the human ships.

Cole waited, as did the rest of his bridge crew. His orders were clear, wait and see what they do. Aggression met with aggression, peace met with peace.

"Sir, incoming transmission on channel Delta-Theta-Foxtrot!" Cole nodded his head, expecting it and told the COMM. officer to answer it.

 _Your destruction is by the will of the gods!_ The guttural voice said through the transmission. Half the bridge crew suddenly felt their faces coloured. Some grew angry, others grew frightful.

Cole only had one thing to say. He leaned forward, hands clasped around his chairs arm rests and muttered. "Fire!"

All at once the Cruisers and Frigates fired their MAC Guns and Mass Drivers, the payloads racing through space to reach the enemy armada. They splashed against the alien shields, some faltered and broke while others held strong.

Plasma torpedoes were launched by the enemy, much slower than the MAC Guns but they slammed into the Destroyers. The PCV held but sections of ships broke apart, venting atmosphere and people. The Beskar hissed angrily at the high temperature and impact, sending personnel rocking on their feet from the blast.

Two destroyers were immobilized but still operational and one Cruiser sported light damage. The aliens suffered no casualties but some ships were showing tales of damage.

The fighters now moved in, angry hissing coming from their engines that went silent in space's vacuum. Alien fighters met Caspers and a deadly duel broke among the ranks as ships engaged in deadly dogfights but Cole wasn't going to just sit back and let them fight on their own. "Diligence-Class Destroyers forward, Cruisers aim for the largest ship, _all together_ and break through its shields! I want Halcyon's covering the Diligences movements!"

The UNSC ships did as they were told and prepared to enter combat. But Cole's ship rocked as alien fighters swooped down and started bombarding the front of his ship. He rocked in his chair, the vibration resistant padding doing little to hold him still. The UNSC _Everest_ PDF kicked online and started shooting the aircraft down while the aliens ships advanced.

"All cruisers!" Cole yelled at the COMM. Line, " _FIRE!"_


	15. Chapter 15

Ezio walked into the garage shop with a lopsided grin, dressed in the formal attire of an ONI officer. The man behind the desk was older, perhaps a few years older than him when he had rebuilt the Order, and was wiping his counter with an old dirty rag.

The man had yet noticed him as Ezio had walked in as silently as he could. He glanced at the various pictures and framed diplomas that lined the side of the garage, his qualifications as an engineer, happy customers who were famous on Earth, and of a young man dressed in UNSC Marines blues smiling at the camera.

Ezio frowned but kept moving to the desk. He waited till he was right in front of the old man before coughing. He jumped in surprise, staring at Ezio with wide bewildered eyes. In response the Assassin-turned-ONI officer extended a hand in greeting.

"Evening," Ezio said, his italian accent steel bleeding through.

The man reached his hand to shake it, a friendly smile on his face, that is until he caught sight of Ezio's uniform. The ONI's all-seeing eye was laid bare for the whole world to see. "Evening," he greeted guardedly.

"This is a fine shop you have here. You must forgive me though, I was never interested in trucks and cars, but of what I have seen, your's is certainly more impressive." Ezio gestured his head to the prized chevy impala that was hung up on the ceiling. A relic of a bygone era but no less in value to a hopeful collector.

"When you've worked as long as I have, things tend to become misplaced," The man answered gruffly. Ezio nodded and crossed his hands behind his back, flashing a disarming smile.

"I'm here due to some work you've done a few days ago, a truck, with UNSC staples on its interior, bearing the CCB: D-649," Ezio said smoothly, not displaying any aggression or passiveness in his speech.

"I remember a few odd weeks where I worked on a truck," the man said slowly, "you'll have to specific."

"Two weeks ago," Ezio answered and pulled out a picture from the inside of his jacket. "It looks like this and probably had this man accompanying the group that made the order." The picture showed the truck that was used for the convoy while Lieutenant McDowell as on the other one.

"Yea I remember it," he replied, "A simple wheel job, I didn't have much to do since the rest was relatively well maintained. Why do you ask?" The man handed the pictures back and Ezio pocketed them as he thought of his answer.

Ezio had never been the conniving type and decided to go in blunt. "Because one of those very same trucks in a convoy blew up due to explosives hidden inside the tyre, or rather, the tyre itself was a bomb." Ezio watched carefully as a different myriad of emotions shined through the man's eyes.

Shock, surprise, fear and lastly, anger. "Are you accusing me of it?" He said heatedly, slamming his palms onto his counter top. Ezio didn't even blink at the aggression, Bartolomeo was a better show of that than anyone else he knew.

"Not accusing, but you are under suspicion." Ezio calmly informed, "You did after all, perform the maintenance."

"I do good clean work!" The man pressed vehemently, "I would never betray the trust and sanctity of my shop. And I don't take kindly to an ONI Spook coming into my store!"

"But I don't know that, which is why I'm here, to find out. Good men died out there, Sir, and revealing just that is breaking nearly thirteen ONI protocols. I'm being blunt with you, because you seem like a blunt man yourself, incapable of playing the deft game that politicians love, are you responsible or a participant of the death of several UNSC Marines and the attack on the convoy?" Ezio retorted.

The old man crumpled in on himself and retreated. Ezio caught his gaze as he wandered away, glancing at something on the counter top. The Assassin narrowed his eyes and decided he had harassed the old garage keeper enough. "I understand if you do not wish to talk, as a civilian you have the right of silence. However, you will still be under suspicion so as forewarning, stay within the country."

With that said Ezio turned around and exited the garage. He blinked at the sun's glare and brought his palm up to shield against the sun's glare. _Why didn't you press?_ Volpe asked through the COMM.

"He was a UNSC Marines," Ezio muttered. "I saw it on his counter top, the wrinkles were too many to be his son and different skin tone, the one that his son inherited from the mother. No doubt about it, we're looking at several generations of dedicated UNSC soldiers."

 _I don't see how this affects our investigation. He is still a prime suspect_ , Musa interjected. Ezio sighed, loudly, making sure it came through the speakers to the no doubt exasperated and annoyed SPARTAN washout.

"It changes everything," Ezio said, "our investigation just turned into a stakeout. Come on Volpe, break out the chips."

There was grumbling on the other end as Volpe said, _I'm too old for grunt work._

Ezio couldn't help but grin.

- **Preston Cole** -

His Command Ship lurched as another plasma torpedo slammed into it. The Officers all rocked on their chairs, one not bracing himself properly and had his forehead slam painfully into his station.

He flopped back on his seat, a ragged gash on his temple as he slid to the ground. "Somebody get that man to the medbay!" Cole yelled. Two marines that were guarding the bridge quickly moved to pick up the fallen navy officer and Cole quickly returned to his tactical command.

His fleet were still duking it out with the alien vessel. He had lost nine to the aliens eleven, am evenly matched battle of strength. Where the aliens had shielding, the UNSC had Beskar, and where the aliens had plasma, the humans had MACs and Mass Drivers. They still outweighed the UNSC technologically but the overwhelming force that the UNSC can choke down their throats all at once had allowed Cole to gain a slight advantage.

"Where are the destroyers!" Cole barked as he watched a Marathon-Class Cruiser tip down beneath the fleet and fired its port side Mass Drivers. A corvette on the alien side had its shields shimmered, then it popped when the second projectile smashed against the ship. It shuddered and it left the small ship prey to a another cruisers Archer missiles.

"They're with the Caspers, providing fighter support cover, Sir!" The Tactical Officer replied. The Everest shook again as the alien ships marched forward, plasma weapons heating up in the cool vacuum of space.

"Get the UNSC _Hand Me Down_ and the _Sasquatch_ to shore up their end! Those Destroyers have a clear shot on the heart of the fleet!" Cole ordered.

"Sir, yes Sir!" The COMM. Officer snapped off and he radioed the two cruisers. Almost immediately two large Marathon-Class ships started moving forward, their MAC guns powering up as they fired simultaneously at a single alien Destroyer. It's shields popped and shuddered as the metal beneath was ripped into two by the powerful slugs.

But three more alien ships fired and it crashed into the the UNSC _You'll Regret It_ with a shudder. The Beskar held against two of the shots but the third caused it to tumble off to the side as the ship spiralled out of control.

"Sir, _You'll Regret It_ 's Captain had reported that Engineering has been damaged and their ship can no longer sustain movement. The MAC Gun however is still active." Cole frowned, while Beskar was a very powerful metal, it didn't stop vibrations from impacts which caused at least half the damage in ship battles.

"Sir the enemy fighters have retreated!" The Tac Officer said, "The Caspers are pulling off and returning back to the fleet."

Cole touched his chin, wondering why the aliens would pull back their fighter escort. He got his answer sooner than he wished as he saw one of the behemoth ships that the aliens were using move forward. The Destroyers, Cruisers and Corvettes in its way parted to allow it through and the Admiral paled.

"All ships evasive maneuvers!" Cole yelled. His response couldn't have come at a better time as just as the UNSC vessels pulled off, the alien ship fired a large beam of concentrated energy. It smashed against the UNSC _Tomorrow_ and caused the ship to be engulfed in a bright white light. Even under such intensity and heat, the Beskar armor shattered against the unbelievable weapon as the steady beam continued to pound against the hardy metal.

Then the Cruiser exploded, becoming a mini-sun as its reactor went off. All hands were killed, Cole didn't need a naval Officer to tell him that. Even if the explosion didn't kill them, they would have been cooked alive inside the ship from the astonishing heat of such an attack.

Cole slammed his fist on his arm rest as he roared, "Destroyers take up positions on the fleet, all Cruisers aim for the main battleship!" Cole ordered.

"It's out of range, Sir!" The Nav Officer replied. Cole grimaced, even now as he spoke the ship was turning around prepared to launch another salvo as the alien ships spread out at its flank.

Then an epiphany hit him. "Call back the Cruisers, we are falling back towards the planet. Get me the Light Frigates, Wolf-Pack formation, I have a special order for them!"

All together the UNSC ships started a full burn towards the planet, retreating with their Mass Drivers still firing on the enemy ships. The alien Capital ship kept advancing with its escorts, keeping at length so the UNSC ships couldn't fire back.

Cole grinned as he waited, just as twenty of his Halcyon's who had entered slipspace moments ago reappeared on his tactical map. "Engage slingshot movement!" He commanded.

The Halcyon captains replied with affirmatives and using Harvest's gravity well, they rode well around the orbit of the planet. After the ride, the Light-Frigates found themselves behind the enemy lines, right at the big ships ass. "Fire!" Cole ordered.

The Halcyons obliged and they fired their MACs as well as their Mass Drivers and watched as the battleships shields flared to taken it on. Seeing that the ship was still alive Cole ordered his ships forward and ignored the aliens firing back.

"All ships fire! Two Destroyers and one Frigate for each alien Cruiser! While all other ships concentrate on the capital ship." The Everest shuddered as its MAC and Mass Drivers fired. More than four dozen shots slammed into the alien vessel, and thanks to the relative ease it was to load the Mass Drivers, two dozen more shots were slammed into its already crippled defences.

The battleship shuddered before exploding, taking two ships at its side with it. Cole grinned but felt his chest clench as the aliens started launching transports down onto the planet, weapons glowing to defend each single drop. "Cheeky bastards," Cole cursed. "Inform the Ground Commanders."

The Officers nodded their heads as the Destroyers and the ships began moving in. The Gorgon-Class Destroyers however stuck close to the Everest and Cole made sure to keep some of the alien ships alive.

The various AI's needed that at least.

- **Grey Warden** -

GW grinned as he felt the various 'Dumb' AIs around him. Here in this dedicated server he felt at one, almost like he was part of the Fade again, but such thoughts only dissuaded him from the mission.

He had spent the past couple of minutes helping the UNSC AIs in studying the Covenant's movements and abilities. Like a hornets nest they fought like ravenous insects attacking a honey bee nest. The bigger ships kept close to the frontline while the smaller Corvettes and Destroyers maintained the center, firing into the UNSC lines in the protection of their bigger brethren. Yet their wings were spread open and none of them were afraid of advancing forward, claiming helpless ships for themselves. Twenty-three of Cole's ships had already perished but the aliens had lost just as much.

Now that that was done, The Warden had a more important task to perform.

Entering the Covenant battlenet the DI AI sent an aggressive spike wedge into the alien systems and forced himself into their network. He felt his body enter the foreign and strange system relays, the luminescent glows of the Covenant net strange to his human eyes.

The Covenant had realised his presence, but they lacked any real solid defence against him as well as not employing one of his advanced kind. GW opened up with a roar, pulling out his sword in an organic instinct as he launched a worm into the system, one that attacked any outlying defence. His worm worked its way through and devoured as much as it could while it still had a chance.

Then it was crushed after sending the data back. Frowning in confusion, GW sensed one of the Huragok begin to disassemble the application. Frowning he sent a reply burst through the system, easily crashing through the firewalls that the Covenant tried to pull up.

 _I'm looking for information_ , GW said as he connected with the artificial being.

 _I may be able to give you what you desire_ , the Huragok replied, _I am Rising Few_.

GW bowed his head in greeting, even if the Huragok could not see it. _I am Grey Warden._

The Huragok sent a chittering burst of static through, which he guessed was an acknowledgement and the AI received packets of data.

 _Please do not intrude into the relays as of right now_ , The Huragok gently chided. GW nodded in acquittal and quickly stored the information.

 _Thank you._

- **Alpha** -

Alpha could hear the Covenant transports lower themselves onto Harvest. Both he and Bravo were holding position atop the nearest building with an AA gun attached.

Three marines with M-19B SAM Missile launchers were next to them, the long barrels pointed to the sky. "Marines hand me one of those," Alpha ordered.

One of the soldiers decked out in UNSC Beskar armor, which was similar to regular marine armor except the helmet covered the mouth and it was coloured sandy brown with light grey stripes, tossed a launcher to the mercenary. Both Alpha and Bravo were put down as consultants for the UNSC Army and Marines now stationed on Harvest.

Alpha had kept tabs on Johnson's and Byrne's units but they were still relatively safe, for now at least. "They're coming in hot!" Bravo yelled.

Just as he said the Covenant transports opened fire with hot plasma and weaponry. Alpha dropped to a crouch even as the AA gun roared to life. The slugs and missiles that exploded into Utgard sky was met with explosions and riddling debris but the amount of transports was just too much.

While a third of the Covenant transports began to tumble to the ground close to death, the others were staying close to the cloud of destruction and fire as a shield against the Anti-Air that the Marines employed. "Damn," Alpha cursed as he dropped his spent SAM.

Alpha glanced down at Utgard. The capital had seen better days, since the original glassing from _Rapid Conversion_ , the buildings were still half demolished and the streets littered with debris. The Army had taken the opportunity to stack up on the buildings and prepare themselves for a long haul of urban combat while other Marines took their units and began moving out into the outskirts.

If Alpha remembered right, this section of Harvest was occupied by the 2nd Marine Attack Battalion while the arctic region was being defended by the 3rd Infantry Brigade under General Stanton and General Denton respectively. Alpha liked the both of them, they were courteous to both him and Bravo but bold enough to make sure the mercenaries knew that they were there to fight, not get their men killed.

That was fine, Alpha and Bravo worked better by themselves. "Dropships coming down!" A marine yelled. Alpha ducked as a covenant transport flew overhead, a Phantom, and he scrambled to his feet as a troop of Grunts dropped down with three Brutes.

"Marines let them have it!" The marines answered his order with a hail of gunfire and gutted the Grunts where they stood. The Brutes however roared and dashed down an alleyway, out of sight from the marines and the TWO Mercs.

All over Utgard the same thing was happening as Brutes, Grunts, Jackals and even Skirmishers landed onto the ground weapons blazing. "Bravo let's go!" Alpha said.

His partner pumped his shotgun and the two of them jumped off the building. Alpha felt his feet slam down onto a Brute that was below the building and fired his M4-1 CAR into its neck. It gurgled blood before falling to the ground, dead. Bravo did the same with his shotgun on the Brute he landed on which resulted in a fine mist of blood rather than just a small gurgle.

Both Mercs landed onto the road with a roll and each divided the aliens that were scouring down the streets. Plasma fire splash against his PCV, making him hiss at the heat as well as the pain of the impacts.

Alpha swung around and fired, knocking three Jackals back and cutting a Brute to smithereens. "Move, move, move!" The two mercenaries retreated down the street, cutting up a dozen Covenant troops before they entered a building at the other end of the road.

"Friendlies!" Bravo barked as several marines turned their weapons to them. They turned away, hands gripping their rifles knuckle tight as they fired into the alien fray.

Alpha glanced at them then shook his head, "The aliens are huddling down right on our necks. The ships in orbit can't fire down on us and the Covenant are way too spread out for us to deal with completely any time soon." Bravo nodded and holstered his shotgun.

"We'll have to bring up the Warthogs soon if we want to gain headway. There were dozens of them out there." Alpha nodded at Bravo's words and they heard one of the marines radio sound off.

 _This is Charlie, we are under intense fire. They're on all sides...oh go-_ , it winked out, revealing nothing more than guttural static. Alpha and Bravo quickly jumped out of a building and started moving out into the streets.

There was another platoon of marines caught out in the open by the Covenant. Four Skirmishers were bearing down upon them from the nearby rooftops while Grunts and Jackals kept up the fire.

Alpha rounded his weapon around and fired. His bullets clang three times off one of the Jackal's shields before it failed and he was able to shoot straight through his body, killing it completely.

Bravo was firing fully automatic at the Skirmishers, cutting down two while the others were forced to retreat under the hellish fire. The Jackals likewise had formed a phalanx and were slowly backing away from the two mercs.

"Thanks!" One of the marines yelled and Bravo gave him a thumbs up.

But that was immediately dashed away as the marine found a hot glowing spike shoved into his head. He slumped to the ground, dead, and both Alpha and Bravo were forced to dive to cover as Brutes with Spikers began unloading into the marines.

The UNSC soldiers twisted to meet the aliens but three of them were skewered before they could do anything while the rest were forced to slowly fall back. Alpha primed a grenade and tossed it over the car he was using for cover.

One of the Brutes roared but all that got him was an explosion to the face. Tapping Bravo by the shoulder the two mercs jumped out into the open and laid down suppressive fire for the marines to run off into the buildings.

"Keep moving!" Bravo commanded as he ripped his shotgun off his back and fired two rounds into the gut of a Brute that tried to charge them. The two mercs were now the center of attention for the Covenant in the area as the Brutes roared in defiant challenge at them.

Alpha grimaced as Spikes slammed into his PCV and graze his left arm. He dropped to the ground onto his back while letting out a continuous stream, cutting down two Brutes and a Grunt.

Bravo took off towards where a Brute had jumped down from a building and the assault men leapt off the ground and planted his feet roughly onto the aliens back. He fired, destroying limbs and body parts, before riding the dead corpse to the ground and mowing down the remaining soldiers that made up the Brutes squad.

The same scene was repeated four times throughout the skirmish. As Covenant forces started to grow in concentration, Alpha and Bravo made their way there, leaving behind a bloody swathe in their wake.

A reckoning against the Covenant as they continued to move. The marines would later tell long tales about how the mercenaries had broken through hundreds of Covenant forces and strike down one of their leaders, but nobody would doubt that they were essential in beating the aliens in Utgard with so few casualties.

 _Alpha, Bravo_ , both the mercenaries grimaced as they received a call from General Stanton. They pulled back from their firefight, passing it on the marines, and retreated to the relative safety of an alleyway.

 _There's a group of aliens that had huddled themselves up inside Utgard's mall. My marines can't push through, in fact we lost a whole platoon to strange grenades they use. You think you could give them some hell? All I can tell you is that there's a lot of those gorilla aliens there._

Alpha looked at Bravo, who shrugged his shoulders. "Yea, alright. Alpha reads you five-by-five we'll be there soon." Both the two mercenaries looked at each other for a moment and felt themselves move on instinct as they moved down a squad of Grunts rounding the corner.

"We still have a job to do," Alpha muttered.

Bravo nodded with a whistle, "This is like the Cartel all over again."

"You don't even remember half of it," Alpha chided.

"Semantics!"

"Wow I thought that word was too big for you."

"Man fuck you, I read."

 **Journal Update**

The war is going full swing and my pieces are falling into place. I have to be ready, my men have to be ready.

The public was made partially aware of the Covenant attack and the UNSCAF were preparing to mobilize.

Parangosky had negotiated with the ship mistress and a meeting with some of the Kig-Yar pirate lords was supposed to take place.

I feel wary, my choices will define that next decade of war. I'm prepared, ready even and if failure comes about I'll have to work around it.

All those changes I made, for better or for worse, I now had it all spilling out on my table. The Operatives I was able to make and the Operatives to come will play a pivotal role. .

I just hope I have enough time.


	16. Chapter 16

Bravo dove to the ground and snapped up with his rifle centered on his shoulder. Three consecutive bangs later and a trio of Brutes were lying on the ground, blood pooling around them.

Alpha was behind him, two pistols in his grasp as he fired at Yanme'e flying low in the ceilings of Utgard Mall. "I hate these things!" Alpha hissed as he pressed back-to-back with Bravo.

The Yanme'e swooped down low to try and pluck the two mercenaries from the ground but Bravo swung his shotgun like a bat, slapping four of the bugs out of the air and dissuading the others from trying the tactic again. "We should capture one!" Alpha said, even as another Brute roared as it ran down the escalator its large foot denting the metal underneath him.

Bravo grimaced beneath his tiger-striped mask and went past Alpha. The Beast rolled to the ground,firing off shots from a Spiker rifle. Bravo jumped back, even as Spikes lodged themselves painfully into his banged up PCV, and dodged to the left. He sprang up into a crouch and fired a sustained burst of his shotgun into the pillar that the large ape-like creature was hiding behind.

Alpha was circling the pillar on the opposite direction of Bravo, hoping to catch the Brute off-guard. But it surprised the both of them when it burst straight through the pillar and tossed a spike grenade onto another. It disintegrated to dust by the explosion and the section if the second floor faltered as it lost its support.

Bravo groaned as he pivoted and ran, just barely escaping the second floor falling on his head. He stopped and tried to regain his balance from his impromptu sprint but found his head encased by the large hand of another Brute.

He grabbed the large creatures hand, struggling feebly as he was lifted off the ground. The deep red of its armor signified it as a Captain and Bravo hissed as it ripped off his belt holsters keeping his secondary. "Bravo!" Alpha yelled as he aimed his gun at the Captain.

"Shoot this fucker, Alpha! I'm not ready to die just yet!" Bravo swung his leg into the Jiralhanae chest but all it did was aggravate the creature as it headbutted him. Stars went in and out of his vision as his Kevlar mask cracked from the hit. The best pivoted on his foot and bodily threw Bravo into a pillar. The PCV groaned and hissed as it tried to absorb the impact of its wearer going straight through a pillar and Bravo crashed into the marble flooring painfully after the battery hit zero.

He groaned, arms wrapping around his chest as he turned onto his back. He could hear Alpha going at it with the Captain and slowly but surely tried to retreat to one of the nearby stores. His PCV was slowly recharging, even without a recharge station Vahlen had been able to modify the vests capabilities. Bravo eased himself down against the counter top for the cashier and glanced to his side.

The dark beady eyes stared back at him, the Unggoy that had been munching on the soft fabric of some women lingerie was hyperventilating as Bravo continued to stare at him. It cocked its head after a moment when he realised Bravo had done anything yet, and after deducing that Bravo was injured and unarmed, pulled out its plasma pistol and aimed it at Bravo's head with a smug expression in its eyes.

Bravo crushed that dreams slowly as he lashed out with his good arm, wrapped it around the Grunts large stubby fingers, and ripped out the pistol from its grasp. It squaked and yelled before turning tail and running to the other end of the store. A green shot of plasma slammed into its back before it could get away and the TWO mercenary sighed as he felt the wounds ease up.

 _Bravo I need a hand_ , Alpha said through the COMM. He was gritting his teeth, Bravo could tell, and the sounds of fighting had grown more intense. _I got a plan for this Brute but I need you to overload its shields._

Bravo replied with an affirmative and pulled himself back out into the malls center. There he could see Alpha on one side of the mall duking it out with the Brute Captain who was jumping back and forth from the different remains of old kiosks and booths that the mall once sported.

Bringing his newly acquired pistol forward, he overcharged the weapon and fired at the Brute. The Captains shields flared, gas venting out of its armors as it turned to gawk at the human that had the gall to shoot him.

Alpha reacted then and dove straight towards the Brute. He slid to a stop right next to its leg and fired a charge from an Arc Thrower Vahlen had supplied to them. The Brute yelled into the air and Alpha sent another shot, this time the muzzle pressing straight into the flesh of the Brutes leg, and the creature stumbled to the ground unconscious. "Damn," Bravo muttered, dropping the pistol on the floor as he let his head fall blearily to his chest.

But a stomp behind him alerted him to danger and he twisted around just in time as another Brute, the one that had originally busted the pillars, appeared trying to stomp him. Bravo tried to rise to his feet but was kicked roughly in the back which caused him to stumble forward. He tried to right himself and found that he was pulled back and punched squarely in the face.

His Kevlar mask cracked but held and he was beginning to wonder why he didn't use Beskar but those thoughts died when he was kneed in the gut and sent two metres into the air. He landed painfully onto his back and if it weren't for Alpha laying down suppressive fire, Bravo was sure he would have died.

He turned and started pulling himself forward, knees bent as he gathered as much distance between him and the Brute. Alpha managed to enter Overkill mode and blasted straight through the Brute with more than a few well-placed shots. When it dropped to the ground Alpha immediately made his way to his friend.

"Bravo, you okay?" Alpha asked as he dropped to a knee next to his downed partner.

"Oh, give me a drink and I'll be just fine. Some methyl or whatever those UNSC Meds call it." Alpha chuckled and pressed a COMM. link on his Kevlar mask.

"General Stanton, the mall is clear and we've captured one of the aliens alive, Sir. Be advised, Bravo is injured and could use medical aid."

 _Roger Alpha_ , General Stanton said, _I'll get D-Company on there soon. Be advises some of the aliens can turn invisible, tried to assassinate me earlier. Keep your head on a swivel._

Alpha glanced down at Bravo who had ripped his mask off. "SpecOps Elites? I thought they weren't supposed to be here yet...," Bravo complained.

Alpha nodded his head and turned to the sky. If anything, the sky was about to become heavy with war as the Covenant pushed harder onto the planet.

- **Cole** -

The ships under his command were holding ground against the alien ships, even as their hot plasma streaked across his fleet's shields. The Admiral had thirty of his fifty-five ships while the aliens were limping away with only ten ships operational.

"Aim for the furthest ship, Destroyers and Frigates concentrate fire on the Corvette at their flank! Fire on my mark," he waited as the ships formed up and heated their Mass Drivers and MAC Guns, "Fire!"

The ships shuddered, sending projectiles straight through the vacuum of space that impacted heavily against their shielded foes. The Corvette tipped over onto its belly, the tungsten rounds smashing straight into the ship and forcing it forward. Metal was ripped apart and the alien ship exploded in sparks of purple and red.

The last ship was grazed by a MAC round and lost its shields to another. Three Mass Driver rounds slammed into its engine and caused one to explode. It started to tumble to its side before a Slipspace portal opened in front of it. The ship boosted its remaining engines and it passed straight through. The rest of the fleet joined it a moment later.

"Sir! All enemy contacts have retreated from the system! We're green across the board!" The Tac Officer said.

"Sir! Several Destroyers are reporting engine failure, the Cruisers _Hold me Back_ and _Goodnight Sweetheart_ have several critically injured and unconscious crew members while one of the carriers is reporting engine failure from taking a stray hit!" The Nav Officer rattled off.

"Have the _Bottleneck_ and _80% Off_ handle those problems. The _Pitbull_ and _Headhunter_ are to patrol the system for any more activity!" Cole ordered.

"Yes, Sir!" The bridge crew chorused as they raced back and forth their duty stations. Rear Admiral Preston Cole slowly rested his back on his chair as he rubbed the weariness from his eyes.

"Bring the Destroyer _Red Alert_ over Harvest. Inform the ground commanders we can provide limited air support."

An Officer snapped a crisp salute and raced away to do just that.

- **Volpe** -

Volpe kept crouched above the nearest building overlooking the garage they were staking out. The sun had already fallen and night casted the streets in darkness, lifted only by the glow of the luminescent street lights.

Volpe felt better at ease in this surroundings, reminding him of his time as the leader of the Thieves Guild, which he still was to some extent, and of his days as an Assassin during the days of Rome and Venice. The Renaissance it was called in modern history, or so Tom had informed him.

But with so much out of place from both sides, how the facets of reality had been manipulated so much, no one quite knows what was fact and fictional, when even those lines became blurred.

"He's still inside," Ezio muttered next to him. Volpe nodded and the two men continued to watch in silence.

"Excuse me, Sirs," A voice interjected. Volpe sighed, wondering why he thought it was a good idea to bring these kids along. Ezio smirked at him and Volpe loathed how their positions had changed since arriving in this timeline.

"Yes, Musa what is it?" Volpe asked.

"Why are we hiding out here? We should have taken him into custody, he is a prime suspect for the attack and we'd get the information faster and more accurately if we brought him back to ONI NMHQ," musa said.

"He's innocent. When I was talking to him he glanced at an old picture, it was him. A family, generation by generation loyal to the UNSC. Something like that, loss in any situation in service to the UNSC, wouldn't shake a man from that resolve," Ezio commented, "Plus, he's innocent until proven guilty."

Musa frowned, "Is it not ONI's way to always be wary? To be frank, the two of you yourselves don't seem to be quite like regular ONI Officers."

Serin hissed at Musa, chiding him in the SPARTANs own way at breaking conduct. Ezio grinned, "We're not all like that, some of us have some honor to their names."

"Like the SPARTAN Program?" Musa challenged. This time Serin was too shocked to reprimand him and both Volpe and Ezio grimaced. "The Program was immoral from the beginning, not to mention several young kids had died from the experimentation."

"Necessity is the mother of invention," Volpe recited, "It is immoral but it was needed. Your grudge against Halsey is completely well and fine, if not youthful naivety that can be excused, but on this mission patience and restraint is a virtue."

"While I understand the SPARTAN Program as a whole was necessary, I cannot forgive using children and training them against their will acceptable. Furthermore to use them and then discard of them when they fail or worse, when they succumb to death," Musa said, eyes blazing in fury.

"Does this kid know Desmond?" Ezio muttered, the kid and Desmond would have probably gotten along, if not for the fact Desmond now understood and forgave the necessity instead of holding a child-like grudge. Though, he was a child, so that could be excused.

Musa's face morphed into confusion, Serin at the mention of the Section Zero Operative. "What does Operative Desmond have to do with this?" Serin asked.

Ezio and Volpe glanced at each other and just shook their heads, further confusing and alarming the two SPARTAN washouts. "Being put into training at a young age, close to death or near the point of breaking, surely it is something not to expect of a child. But you were special, and the world needed you. You can place your blame wherever you want, to those who performed the immoral deeds, to those who made those deeds plausible, or to those that made the necessity of such deeds. It doesn't matter, if you want to fester with your grudge that's fine. However, no matter the hand you were dealt, you still have a duty. If you do not wish it, you need only ask and we will send you off to be raised in a stable family. Far away from ONI and Dr Halsey, but do not think that we do what we do without reason," Ezio said, staring into Musa's eyes. The washout stared back and didn't break eye contact.

"Musa," Serin shook the washout shoulder and he glanced back annoyed. The girl glared and he finally relented, tossing the subject away as he refocused at the garage. "It's time for the shift change," Musa said.

Ezio glanced down the road and noticed a man walking down, hands tucked into his pockets as he entered the garage. Both the Assassins glanced at each other and stood up, surprising the washouts. "Stay here," Volpe ordered. Serin nodded her head and grabbed Musa by the shoulder, indicating he would stay put as well. Nodding to himself Volpe surprised the two washouts by leaping off the roof and landing in a roll, followed closely by Ezio.

They took off down the street towards the garage and both skilled parkour masters kicked off the wall and latched onto the side of the building that led to an alleyway. Both of them started to climb, Ezio speeding past Volpe as he reached the skylight first and vaulted over.

Volpe did the same but he dodged right while Ezio moved left. Volpe landed softly onto his feet atop a car that was suspended in the air. Creeping over the edge he was able to see the garage owner and another young male talking to each other.

They were speaking in violent hush whispers, meaning they were either expecting to eavesdropped on or were unexpectedly courteous to the time. Ezio begged to differ and slowly moved across the shadows closer to the two men, but still far enough away that he rooms main floodlight didn't reveal his presence.

The hushed whispers go louder and Volpe was able to hear words like 'explosives' and 'Innie' as well as 'UNSC scum'. From what he could gather the younger man was bad mouthing the UNSC while the older man was trying to understand what he was hearing.

Volpe had heard enough and signalled for Ezio to take him down. But they were too little too late as the young man pulled out an old M6 PDW and fired twice into the man.

Volpe gritted his teeth and dropped down from the car and onto the ground while Ezio jumped over a table and tackled the Innie into the ground. He yelped in surprise but managed to drive a knee into the Italian Assassin. Ezio lost his footing and stumbled a few steps, good enough for the Innie to shove the Assassin away and take off running out the garage door. Volpe sprinted after him and caught him on the back just as he left the door and out into the night sky.

Volpe hooked an arm around the man's neck and kicked the back of his knee. He dropped to the ground, stumbling, and was brought onto his back by Volpe's weight. The Innie spluttered and Volpe knocked him out with a punch to the head. The man spasmed as his head hit the asphalt ground and Volpe commended him on how he remained awake.

The Innie threw a punch but he dodged and grabbed his head in a headlock. He squeezed, slowly suffocating the man as he kicked uselessly at the ground, and turned to the washouts who were still on the roof.

"Call for a medic," he said and the children nodded. Volpe dragged the man back and tossed him into the garage, stepping on his neck as he did.

"How's the garage owner?" Volpe asked Ezio who just walked out from the back of them room.

"Fine, went into shock though. He'll need a doctor soon." Volpe nodded his head slightly and crouched down onto the man's chest and checked his body. Volpe pulled out a wallet that had the identification George Stevenson on it with a general picture of the Innies face. He patted the man's side and this time a different ID card fell out, this one read as Frank Troy, a resident of one of the UNSC's outer colonies.

"This had quite a bit of planning." Volpe muttered.

"Everything in this day and age does," Ezio grumbled.

- **Chur'R-Yar** -

The ship mistress could barely fathom the events that had led her here into this predicament. When she was attacked by those strange aliens after following the Luminaries guidance, she had been knocked unconscious before she could enact her revenge on the Unggoy and his Huragok friend.

But that was the least of her worries. She had woken up later in a grey cell, tied up to a table as more of those aliens dressed in complete white plastic-like fabric surrounded her. They cut her, prodded her and were close to killing her if not for another one of those creatures, this one dressed in grey stepped up in front of her.

From there she was provided the strangest set of demands, one was 'Do not attack' and 'Call your pirate friends' in the basic San'Shyuum tongue. She was only partially familiar with the formal language of the San'Shyuum however she was able to get the gist of it. She clicked her teeth to show she understood and the aliens dropped her down.

From there it was a strange meeting as she was shipped around. She had been sent out to space and put through an agonizingly long stay on a ship, before the aliens had taken her to her old ship, which was stripped of everything useful, and told her to call for, specifically, 'The Warriors with no Ties'. She knew what that meant, they wanted pirates, Kig-Yar pirates. It seemed her people's reputation superseded the boundaries of the Covenant as well.

She had made several calls to several Ship Mistress' and Masters that she was familiar with. The aliens had all stood silently and watched, while Chur'R-Yar noted an apparent female of the group standing at the helm. She looked like she was in charge of the whole situation.

After she had contacted them, making tersed threats and accusations at the Kig-Yar pirate lords when they laughed at her, she returned to the aliens. She contemplated running but the soldiers by the alien woman's side didn't look like they would let that slide.

Then she was corralled away and stashed into another grey cell, forced to stay and wait until the aliens decided to take her out again.

She felt the ship shudder and chattered her teeth in alarm, she could smell the scent of more figures stepping onto the ship, more of her kind had arrived.

- **Tom** -

Tom looked with narrowed eyes upon Tribute, the planet he now called home. He shifted and turned towards the new Operatives he had conjured into being in his office. Two men with their own new jobs and happenings to show to the world.

Archer and Kestrel, the Third Echelon and Voron Operatives dressed in their matte black Splinter Cell uniforms. Archer was equipped with his signature green sonar goggles while Kestrel had his more ominous russian red.

Next to the both of them were two people that Tom had been significantly hesitant to bring to but had decided that it was to be the best option. Standing off to the side dressed in a wide jacket and plain navy blue trousers was Jack Ryan, the Man of Rapture and to his left was a man dressed like a noir detective, whose name was Booker DeWitt.

Both the Plasmid and Vigor user was milling carefully to the side, with Booker dismantling a M4-1 CAR and reassembling it over and over again. Jack simply stared interestedly over the older man's shoulder.

Archer and Kestrel however merely waited in front of Tom. Archer with his arms crossed and Kestrel with his back straight. Tom sighed noisily, rubbing his eyes as Arc stood passively near the room's entrance.

"Gentlemen, I'm sure you've already received a rundown on what exactly DI is and what exactly is our aim while being a part of this universe?" Tom glanced at all four new Operatives, nodding to him in satisfaction when they stood resolutely in the room.

"Then you must know that our greatest obstacle now is the alien empire. We've already introduced improved weapons and armaments, with an expected continuation of it as time continue to pass, but if possible I want to do everything in my power to end it as quickly as possible. Which is why the two of you are here," Tom said while crossing his arms.

"What'd you need us for, Sir?" Archer asked.

Tom nodded to the man and said, "With you Splinter Cells? Do what you do best and do some subterfuge and espionage. I have Assassins that can do that but they're busy in ONI, plus they're a little bit too idealistic. They can get the job done, I just don't think they're suited for it since they were better at starting rebellions than quelling it. So, you can guess where this is going right?"

Archer chuckled and dropped his hands, ignoring the disapproving stare of Kestrel. "The two of you are tasked with ending the Insurrectionist. I've already informed the UNSC of my independent movement and besides some monthly reports, we have free reign." Tom shrugged and then turned to Booker and Ryan.

"The two of you are special. Manth Ma and her Mandalorians and prepared and ready to go to war with the Covenant but they'll be taking the fight to them. And I mean, _to them._ But Alpha and Bravo need some help as well and HECU are being held back until the Arctic region of Harvest comes into place. So I'm sending the two of you to Eridanus-II, hopefully it's not glassed yet and you'll hold the line there. The idea is simple gentlemen, we hold the line in the outer colonies as long as possible. This isn't a repeat from the original Halo timeline, we will _not_ let the Covenant just bulldoze through into the Inner Colonies. We will hold the line, and hold it as hard as I can make it. The extra SPARTANs will come into play soon and I suspect Desmond will find a way to worm himself into the SPARTAN-III project if it really does happen."

Booker rubbed his chin, experienced trained eyes calculating as Ryan nodded with a grim smile. Tom wrapped a hand around the cuffs of his sleeves and stared to the sky, "The Kig-Yar...I hope Parangosky took what I said to heart. No conflict is worst than an internal one, but then again we still don't know if the Covenant even have colonies," Tom rattled off before taking a calming breath.

"That'll be all dismissed," Tom ordered and they nodded as they filed out of the building.

"You know Gordon has been itching to fight as well," Arc said from where he was after the new members of his ever growing team were gone.

Tom chuckled, "He'll have his time...probably... _maybe_...whichever comes first."

Tom then turned and stared at the setting sun of Tribute and checked his watch. "There's still a decade before Reach falls."

"Or maybe Reach won't fall at all," Arc interjected. A ghost of a smile graced Tom's face and he nodded.

"Maybe not at all."


	17. Chapter 17

**Journal Update**

It's already been a year into the war, a whole bastard of a year. Sometimes I regret being a PMC head, I should have just worked my way up the military and became part of the Security Council, at least then I could have manipulated things better. My plans were all reactions at this point, trying to keep everything steady and still.

If the Outer Colonies fell, then nothing would stop the enemy from attacking the Inner Colonies. I'm at least glad I cut off Halo, but they'll find out about Delta-Halo somehow. I have no idea how Regret got that information while storming New Mombasa. But that's pondering for another time.

Booker, Ryan, Alpha and Bravo are all I have defending the Outer Colonies. Alpha and Bravo were forced to split up when the Covenant launched a simultaneous assault on three Outer Colony worlds. Cole had to divide his already halved fleet to other sectors of space and that just added to the severity of the war. The Covenant was made public and the captured Brute that Alpha and Bravo had caught was being detained in ONIHQ.

The Kig-Yar, to my immense relief, have aligned themselves with the UNSC. It was funny seeing how the news reels tried to play off with their new alien comrades. The expressions were mixed on that day and people were still arguing about it but so far no one was outright declaring that the aliens should be killed off, well besides the people on the internet but that's the internet.

But, while on paper it says the Kig-Yar have aligned themselves, all the UNSC got were the pirate fleets under the Kig-Yar pirate lords. ONI had agreed to outfit their ships with Slipspace drives and the aliens traded the plans for their laser systems. From ONI's reports they were actually surprised by this but an analyst and anthropologist had discerned that the Kig-Yar was a trade heavy culture as the pirates took everything the UNSC offered while providing their own, of course each one was of equal value. A gun was met with a gun, a knife with a knife, sometimes by other materials, like a compact tooth cleaner which was sadly useless to the humans. It kind of made little sense if they were pirates but I like to think that while they cut and plundered, they were amazing businessmen too.

On other news, Booker and Ryan had been on Eridanus-II when the Covenant came. The Covenant had decided to land troops on the planet due to their Luminary or whatever the Prophets had renamed it as, had registered the two anomalies and provided a completely new and different glyph. I found it funny how Night told me it meant 'Error' in Forerunner.

It was to be expected that both Booker and Ryan massacred the Covenant forces that tried to capture them, and they held them off long enough for the UNSC to reach the system. It was a short conversation from there before the UNSC _Good Boy_ and _Bumblebee_ took up positions in Eridanus-II's atmosphere and dropped of their marine contingents.

I have no idea what Archer and Kestrel are doing, they just ran off and never contacted me after retrieving their mission. I was glad Vahlen had installed tracking chip in their headgear and Arc had all but warned them from trying to go 'Splinter Cell' on them.

Hah, bad jokes.

 **Journal End.**

Cole was frowning heavily, he had received some reinforcements from the UNSC, three Marathon-Class Cruisers and some more Halcyon-Class Frigates. The Gorgons had been immensely helpful coordinating his now stretched and spread out fleet.

His ships were barely holding the assaults on the other Outer Colony worlds and it was becoming increasingly thin on the Harvest front as the Covenant, which was the name of the conglomerate of aliens, continued to send forces to the colony world for whatever odd reason.

True, Harvest was a strategic point to achieve further movement to other sectors of space closer to Inner World territories but the Covenant couldn't have known that, _hopefully_ they didn't.

"Sir! The _Spirit of Fire, Pillar of Autumn and Buccaneer_ have entered the system. Requesting orders, Sir!" Cole frowned, he had only ten ships in system, including his flagship and the five Gorgon support ships. The Spirit of Fire, a repurposed colony ship now acting as a C &C Tactical Command ship, with the two Halcyon-Class Light Cruisers was about all the reinforcements that the UNSC could spare at the moment.

He wished that wasn't the case as his sensors picked up on the Covenant fleet parked right at Harvest's doorstep. Eight ships in total, all cruisers. Cole was now forced into a stalemate, he couldn't handle the situation well with how thin his numbers were, if he left to confront the alien ships, Harvest would be made vulnerable and if he stayed the fleet could engage Cole's at any turn.

The Rear Admiral, promoted to Full Admiral, was none too pleased by this. But he couldn't change anything, this was how it was to be. The UNSC had never had a very large fighting force, since after the Jovian Moons Campaign they had been more focused on colonization rather than war and the Insurrection wasn't really a very large problem. The Navy and the Army had begun a more aggressive enlistment campaign and while the numbers went up, the majority of the humans on worlds still didn't feel up to fight an alien threat that didn't seem to be too much of a problem.

"Have them take positions on the fleet. If I'm not mistaken the _Spirit of Fire_ has several Firebases on board the ship? Have them send them down onto the Arctic region of Harvest, General Denton would appreciate it," Cole ordered. The Officer nodded and started tapping away at his terminal as Cole now waited, that was all he could do as the rest of the Colonies was ravaged by war.

- **Volpe** -

A year, it was hard to imagine that so long had already passed. Musa had left ONI, informing Volpe that while he understood that he and Ezio were different than most ONI Operatives, by and large the young man could not agree with the UNSC and ONI. But as grace he informed them that he had taken their teachings into consideration in his year long service under their leadership.

Volpe had been pleased with knowing just that and had sent Musa to Mars, where he was now attending the Mars Planetary College under Social Biology and Advanced Quantum Theoretical Physics. Volpe was sure the young man would become an spectacular genius in no time. While that had happened, the Innie that both Ezio and him had caught a year ago had been imprisoned and had refused to give up any information.

With that being said the young man was then trialed and placed in a military jail serving a life sentence for aiding a known terrorist group and turning a weapon on a civilian with unlawful intentions. That also had the consequence of halting both of Volpe's and Ezio's tracks as they didn't have anymore solid leads. ONI NMHQ was now on lockdown with their Operatives undergoing psychological tests to prove their allegiance while the Army liaison had been discharged from the hospital and sent away to the front lines of the Insurrection.

There was too much tape now in the way, so Volpe had pulled away from his efforts. Ezio returned back to New Mombasa where he was then promoted to Head of Security and sent to Reach. The Italian had been grinning all the while, making jokes with Volpe through the COMM. lines as he was shipped off. But Volpe knew that there was a specific reason to his pointless banter.

Parangosky, well, she had started to become suspicious with Volpe. She had caught wind of his immediate attachment to the DI incident and has grown wary of him. ONI Operatives had been stationed nearby his office and the Assassin couldn't afford to make anymore mistakes. His contact with Tom had as well decreased, with the situation explained as thoroughly as they could while remaining discreet.

Tom had revised Volpe's orders and informed him anymore situations pertaining to the Insurrection will be moved to Archer and Kestrel. Both he, Ezio and Desmond were to maintain their respective jobs in ONI and gather as much intel as possible on troop movements, Section-III propaganda and watch over the SPARTAN washouts and recruits.

Desmond had the dubious duty of keeping an eye on Colonel James Ackerson, something that the Assassin didn't relish. Of course Volpe had to monitor the SPARTAN washouts and for some odd reason Serin had become quite attached to him, he had also heard of Desmond's little apprentice, Fhajad, becoming quite skilled and respected in the Section Zero ranks. Of course, on the helm of an ONI Operative, skills was second to cunning and that was something Serin had in leaps and bounds.

Even now as Volpe read the report Serin had made on the Kig-Yar assessment, he was particularly impressed. It was blunt but still subtle, something any ONI head could respect and at the rank of Commander, Volle had certain sway in ONI happenings, especially in his cell of Section-III which was responsible for Dimensional Intervention and alien-human relations. The last bit though was just a nice staple over for 'How best to kill them when we're done with them.'

Volpe placed the papers neatly into a corner on his desk and stapled his fingers together. The SPARTAN washouts were outside his office in cubicles, all within eyeshot of him, and the rest of the ONI personnel assigned under him were surrounding them. All loyal and good men and women that Volpe had hand picked from the ONI roster.

Volpe sighed as he felt the boredom shake in. He should have been a field Operative but those positions were a lot less forthcoming than how Volpe had imagined. But still he guessed it wasn't all bad. He glanced at another set of papers on his desk, one which had been sent to him for additional Marine CBAs (Combat Beskar Armor) be sent to the 203rd Marine Battalion and a muster order for the 2nd, 5th, 9th and 13nd Patrol fleet as well as the three Cruisers _Alaska_ , _Summer Night_ and _Heart of Courage_ to Beta-Gabriel.

He wondered why but that wasn't his job. Instead he signed off on the orders and sent a message to Tom, one with the order with a small codeword he had decided upon with Tom. He sent it and rested his back against his chair, sighing.

There was a knock at his door, causing Volpe to make a silent groan as he stood up from his chair and beckoned the person on the other side through. Serin entered, a puzzled look on her face as she greeted the Commander.

Like most of the SPARTANs she had kept her hair short, face properly chiseled and muscled with the patented ONI Insignia stitched onto her white uniform. She was fifteen turning sixteen soon, and Volpe thought she would grow to be an invaluable asset to ONI. But over the years he had slowly but surely taught her some of the core values of being an Assassin. Specifically his own way of the Creed.

That there was nothing hidden in the eyes of those who search and to never harm the innocent. It was a code, a creed all of its one for her to follow, one he hoped she took to heart.

"Section Zero Operative Desmond has arrived asking for you, I asked him to wait one moment," Serin informed. A strange look passed through Volpe's face and he moved around his desk while preparing his hidden blade just in case. It was strange for Desmond to meet either the two older Assassins, as his work brought them far apart from each other. For Desmond to be there it could mean any number of things and Volpe wasn't taking any chances.

Thinking about it, Serin was the only washout present under him who knew his relation with Desmond and he hadn't explained that tidbit to her or Musa after the incident on Earth.

He gave the girl a reassuring grin as he passed by her, hoping to quell any thoughts the girl had. She still looked suspicious but the look had softened to one of curiosity than questioning.

Volpe stepped out into the room and he wasn't surprised to see Desmond speaking to the SPARTAN washouts, an easy warm grin on his face as he nodded and called each washout by name. His level of familiarity with the SPARTANs wasn't as close as Dr Halsey but even after so long Volpe could tell some of the washouts turn away with embarrassed blushes as he brought up past jokes and moments from their time with him, others were also smiling.

 _Bartenders_ , Volpe thought. "Desmond, what do you need?' Volpe asked as he stepped up to Desmond talking to Ralph-101. The Zero Operative smiled at Volpe and they exchanged a firm handshake of greeting. Some of the washouts looked in silent astonishment and surprise at the overly friendly greeting, even as Desmond chuckled and let go of the hand with a pat on the shoulder.

"Man it's nice to see a familiar face," Desmond said, "A much better alternative to what I see every day."

"Colonel Ackerson becoming too much?" Volpe said as he directed his friend to the back of the room, closer to the exit just in case. Volpe frowned in his mind, he was starting become paranoid but better cautious than dead.

"You can mention that name and all I'll hear is a man in his mid-life crisis," Desmond joked. He caught sight of Serin trailing behind and he smiled at her, "Hey Rough, how are ya?"

Serin's cheeks coloured at the nickname Desmond used to call her. Rough, meaning diamond in the rough. Volpe thought Desmond could come up with better but it seemed to embarrass and please Serin, so he could give it a thumbs up for effect.

"I'm fine. Thank you, Sir," Serin replied. Desmond nodded with a smile before pulling close to Volpe and pushing his mouth close to his ear.

"S-III has hit a go ahead from Paragonsky, but Alpha company is at five hundred, that's nearly twice the amount of the original company. Do you have any idea what's going on?" Volpe frowned but shook his head.

"No I don't," he replied, before pulling back and grinning at Desmond laughing. Serin looked confused over the exchange, she hadn't heard what they said and Volpe hoped his misdirection worked.

"I think it's be best if we stayed better in touch," Desmond said, a natural smile on his face as he looked at Volpe, "But I could use some logistical help in the transfer, I didn't join Zero for my smarts."

Volpe nodded and parsed the code rather quickly, "I'll get it done, don't worry." The two Assassins shared a discreet look with each other before parting.

Volpe stared at the retreating form of his Assassin brother and sighed deeply.

- **Daisy-023** -

Daisy silently moved through the ruins of Harvest, arms held close to her chest as she swung her ME-1 RAR in a wide arc. Solomon and Cal were behind her, the male with a Particle shotgun and the other with a VSR (Viper Sniper Rifle) that shined under Harvest's heat.

The SPARTANs were dressed in their MJOLNIR powered armor suits, Daisy with her blood red and black CQB variant suit and Cal in her all brown and dark green striped suit. Solomon had a navy blue colouring, his shotgun customized with a yellow and black quarantine symbol.

"Intel says there's at least a whole platoon of those Elites somewhere around here," Solomon commented as he scanned the area. "They could be camouflaged in the ruins."

Daisy shook her head and pointed at her helmet, "I'm not catching anything on thermal and I doubt it. We walked here from FOB Bravo, so there's no way they'd have known." Solomon shrugged and turned to Cal who had her VSR raised and connected to her helmets smart zoom.

"I'm not seeing anything either," she reported quietly, "But it's best if we remained cautious." Daisy nodded her head the group continued through the throng of ruins.

"Right," Daisy agreed. The two SPARTANs took off, bounding down the ruins of Harvest's outskirt towns. When the Covenant ground forces landed, they had spread themselves out, taking over most of the land that UNSC ground forces couldn't occupy. By the time the main attack on Utgard and the Arctic had been stopped, the other alien forces had become so entrenched that they were able to shoot down most of the Air Force's attempts to blow them apart.

This had led to Daisy and her small SPARTAN team to be tasked with eliminating some of the alien AA and liberating areas of Harvest. She was wary in facing the aliens, as the only SPARTANs who had so far was John, Sam and Kelly. They had informed her that their armor was up to par with the alien weaponry but John had been adamant in reminding her that things can go awry on the battlefield. Of course she knew that, but having trained alongside John for so long she understood it was his way of telling her to be careful.

There was quite the collection of oddballs in the SPARTAN program. The group stopped next to the decrepit remains of a farmhouse, the animes that once lived inside looking like they had been slaughtered and feasted upon by the aliens.

"Guess they're not vegetarians," Solomon murmured. Cal made a disgusted clicking sound and Daisy was inclined to agree. Just then, a chittering sound was heard emanating from the barn, and the SPARTAN squad quickly delved into the shadows of the farmhouse. Even with her dark red armor, Daisy was able to completely turn herself into a silent shadow.

She watched as Solomon disappeared onto the second floor and Cal hiding behind a wooden cart. A pair of bird-like aliens, dubbed Jackals by the marines, stepped out. One of them was carrying the leg of a dog, blood dripping from the fresh stump as they clicked and chattered.

Daisy winked her status lights, flicking to red to alert her teammates as they moved. She two feet away one of the Jackals when she attacked. She dove out of cover with her hands wrapped around the creature's neck and then she twisted. It let out a gurgled squawk and Solomon had slammed his vibroblade into the other Jackals gut. He wrenched upwards and then slammed it back to the ground with a loud thud.

The SPARTANs stilled, watching warily all around them. Their motion trackers were silent and they exchanged brief nods before slowly creeping forward.

They exited the farmhouse and scanned the open wheat fields and fence line. Her motion tracker beeped and Daisy frowned underneath her helmet. Small red dots appeared in and out of the tracker and she saw a shimmer move in front of her. She gasped and was about to fire when a sword made out of plasma appeared and cut through her weapon.

She heard a shotgun blast behind her but couldn't see what Solomon was shooting at as the Elites in front of her swung it down onto her head. She rolled away, spreading her right hand on the ground to stop her momentum and leapt forward.

She activated her jetpack and drove an armored shoulder into the Elites back like a high-speed projectile. It roared as its spine snapped and it bent into two, crashing into the hard Harvest dirt.

Another Elites appeared, this one was different from the others. It had armor that looked more segmented, silvery and traditional. Like a museum piece in comparison to its compatriots. "A leader?" Daisy murmured out loud.

Just as she was about to attack the alien Cal bounded into view. Her VSR was useless in such close quarters combat and she pulled out her ME-PDW and fired at the Elites chasing after her. The bullets slammed harmlessly against the shields before it tackled her to the ground, matching her strength for strength.

Daisy tried to move around the fighting duo but the ceremonial Elite was faster and it dashed over the two fighting partner and landed on top of Daisy with its sword reared back to kill her. She twisted and the sword slammed in her back panels, sliding off the Beskar plating. She grabbed the Elite's leg and using her great strength she lifted it up and tossed it over her head.

She quickly jumped up to her feet and activated her vibroblade and her grenade launcher. Her light Beskar armor seemingly becoming more lighter with the added movement. A shimmer moved in front of Daisy and she fired a grenade that caused the Elite's cloaking field to disappear with a pop and flinging him backwards.

She raced forward, her vibroblade poised to kill the Elite but was stopped short as another Elite appeared and deflected her strike. She stumbled backwards and had to defend against a flurry of slashes and diagonal strikes to her body. She twisted around the Elites jab and slammed her elbow into its arm, breaking the ulna and radius if it had them. The creature howled and Daisy silence him by slamming her vibroblade into its neck, slicing straight through and severing the head.

She checked behind her to see Solomon fighting off two Elites. The SPARTAN rounded the barrel of his shotgun into an Elite and blew its shields off, scraping some flesh as he did, before he had to disengage when the other soldier came forward prepared to dive its sword in PCV lining around his neck.

Solomon ducked and sent a haymaker into the Elite's split jaw. It spluttered but the SPARTAN latched its fingers around the Elites head and pulled downwards, smashing into his knee. The helmet cracked and the alien slid down, dead. The remaining alien activated a shorter blade from its gauntlet, reminiscent to the SPARTAN vibroblade, and tried to kill Solomon. It, fortunately, only cut through a small portion of the Beskar armor and the SPARTAN sent a fist into its head, snapping it backwards with a loud crunch of bones.

Seeing the male dispatching of his adversaries calmed Daisy's nerves and Cal quickly killed her opponent with a diagonal swipe of her weapon. It crumpled to the ground and Daisy turned back to the ceremonial Elite to see that he was retreating with what was left of his soldiers.

"Echo-2, stop him!" Daisy ordered. Cal nodded her head and pulled out her VSR, firing continuously at the creatures. But a trio of the other Elites jumped in front of Cal's shots, causing them to be violently killed by the fast moving projectile, and the ceremonial Elite disappeared after turning invisible.

"He's gone," Solomon muttered, his shotgun still raised as he fired single shots into the corpses.

"Leave it, he isn't our objective," Daisy ordered, "Echo-2 take a position on the roof, keep overwatch." Cal nodded and quickly ran off, launching her jetpack to take her up to the rooftop of the farmhouse.

After making sure that her armor was ok Daisy contacted General Stenton, "Sir, this is SPARTAN Echo team. Checkpoint Fiona has been cleared of hostile threats, green light for firebase construction," Daisy informed him.

 _Damn good work soldier,_ The General commented, _I'll have the Spirit of Fire go down and drop a base now. Sorry to say though, you still have a job to do. Alien forces have begun marching towards the Arctic region and I don't have scouts to spare._

Daisy frowned but knew what he was asking, "We'll get it done, Sir."

 _Thank you_. Daisy sighed, General Stenton was a good man, a hard-ass marine but even he knew how much he was relying on the SPARTANs. The planet Harvest just had too much open space and it made his men as vulnerable as the Covenant, the casualty rates were rising with the Brutes initiating devastating hit and run attacks with the Elites performing surgical strikes into Marines barracks and command centres.

It was certainly not a good day to be on Harvest.

- **Boss** -

Boss moved quietly through the remains of the Station Jefferson's security team. The rebel forces tried to cut them off by sealing the bulkheads but a quick application of C-7 and soms clone ingenuity led to that problem fixing itself.

"Delta shift it," Boss ordered as the clones picked up their pace. While the clones were busy stripping down Station Jefferson, Archer and Kestrel were on Victoria hunting General Howard Graves. The Commandos under his command quickly pushed their way through into Jefferson's hangar bays, where repurposed liners and commercial craft say with oversized weapon systems. Boss could have scoffed but only continued to order his men forward.

"Strange, I expected more security," Fixer commented.

"I expected more shooting," Sev said in disappointment. Scorch quietly bristled but snapped his blaster up and fired a continuous stream into the hallway when he spotted more rebels marching out.

He cursed when he saw his blasters fling off the Beskar armor the rebels were wearing and quickly dove to cover as they fired back. "Firefek," Fixer cursed, "What are we going to do now?"

Boss scanned the hallway and found nothing he could use, except for a power line that was wrapped around the corner. "Fixer!" Boss said and gestured to the wire, the clone glanced at it then nodded.

He quickly moved across cover, Boss and Scorch covering his movements, and broke the wall open. Reaching inside he quickly rewired everything, switching cable and attacked his suits battery pack to it. "Now!" He yelled.

Sev snapped his blaster up and fired at the wire. The overload of electricity and the added impact of the blaster bolt caused it to explode in a fiery show of death and destruction. The rebels were flung forward, some dying from the sheer force of the explosion while others slammed painfully onto the ground. Scorch and Boss quickly bounded down the hallway and ripped the helmets off the rebels heads, shooting fresh streams into their heads.

Then they turned their weapons onto both ends of the hallway and prepared to face their enemy. More rebels, some in beskar and some not, appeared. Scorch fired a grenade down the hallway that killed a few of them, and Fixer kept a steady stream of bolts down range. The rebels were dispatched faster than you'd think even with the Beskar armor.

They reached the command structure after a few more firefights, one where Sev had to get creative and shot out a window dooming several rebels to space, and Boss ordered Scorch the place the explosives.

"Everything's set on Reactor 1 and 2, with the command and control room, this Station is dead." Fixer commented. Boss nodded and handed Sev his blaster, then fired at the window.

The clones were surprised and were promptly sucked out into space, just barely having time to seal their suits as they spun out of control in zero-G. A pelican being driven by a HECU marine reeved its troop bay open to the commandos and they crashed inside.

Boss landed roughly into a crouch and pressed the detonator, causing the entire station to explode in a fiery show of death. "What was that for!?" Fixer complained.

As if to answer his question two URF freighters, lines with weapons, appeared in system just as the Station exploded. The fiery carcass' flames had engulfed both ships, destroying one while the other received damage.

"Oh," Fixer said weakly. Boss just shook his head at the Commando.

"Never question me Delta," Boss chuckled.

- **Kestrel** -

Kestrel gripped General Howard Graves roughly around the neck as Archer killed the last remaining members of his personal guards. The former Third Echelon agent pistol whipped one soldier and scored three consecutive headshots that killed off the rest.

"All clear," Archer said, the same easy voice always on. Kestrel squeezed General Howard's neck when he heard, applying just enough pressure to make him struggle for each breath, not quite ridding him of it though. It was much scarier if he knew that asphyxiation could be a long time coming.

"Where are the other members of the URF council," Kestrel asked, his thick Russian voice adding to his already menacing aura. Archer checked the doorframe and locked it, the Splinter Cells had went through quite a bit of trouble in entering the camp undetected, especially with how jumpy the guards were. It would be a shame if they were caught now.

"Fuck you," Graves spat. Kestrel cocked his head and Archer chuckled. The Voron agent kicked the General in the gut, slamming into the cement wall behind him, before driving his elbow into his chest and slamming his head into his forehead at the same time. The two powerful strikes nearly caused the general to crumble and Kestrel pulled him back up by his throat.

"Talk," Kestrel warned.

"We will win, we will survive," Grave muttered, his nose broken and a cut on his forehead where his skin split. Kestrel frowned beneath his mask and tossed the man over to Archer he punched him square in the jaw and towards a railing on the second floor of his office. He crashed into the window, breaking through it from his momentum, and Archer grabbed him by his ankle before he could fall all the way through.

"Ever watch Batman?" Archer asked, "Because I'm not pulling you back up if you say something I don't like."

Graves made a few fearful sounds, flailing his hands in the air, before shouting, "I don't know where the other Generals are. We keep those informations classified."

"Then tell me something I _want_ to know," Archer grounded out. Graved yelled something along the line of, 'I don't know anything,' and Archer responded by letting go.

He screamed as he fell, instinct causing him to pull his head close to his chest and ride out the fall. He landed roughly onto the ground and Kestrel hopped down, fingers coiling into a fist.

The General gasped and sprung to his feet with both arms reaching to strike Kestrel. The Russian leaned backwards against the frantic throws and surged forward, slamming an elbow into his jaw. The man slammed backward onto a wall that had the URF flag hanging by a wooden pole.

It broke and he tried to swing it at Kestrel. The Voron agent blocked it with his left arm, causing the stick to snap into two, and grabbed a falling piece of it from the sky. The he buried it into the man's thigh, making him scream out in pain and drop to a crouch.

"Talk to me," Kestrel said dangerously, "It'll hurt more if you don't." He grabbed the man around the throat again and lifted him, ignoring the sound of the pole grinding against the man's thigh muscles.

"We have a cell inside ONI headquarters on Reach. They gave us intel on Beskar shipments and information on ONI Section-III. That's all I know, I was only in charge of the troops, General Tressler was in charge of intelligence," he said, gritting his teeth painfully. Kestrel glanced at Archer, who shrugged his shoulders.

He then slammed his forehead i to the General's, knocking him out. The UNSC would pick up the man but Kestrel and Archer had to get as much information out of him as they could before that happened though. Parangosky had grown more and more suspicious as the days went by.

"It's done," Kestrel intoned.

"Stop being melodramatic."


	18. Chapter 18

- **Tom** -

He breathed out slightly, smoothing the edges of his suit. Carefully he attached the breathing apparatus over his face and signalled the ready sign to the men and women around him.

There was an ONI Officer next to him, this one Tom had no prior knowledge of besides being a Section-III Operative. His name was Lieutenant Fink, and he was a liaison that Parangosky had practically demanded for him to bring with him on his self-imposed, slightly mind-manipulated, mission.

Surrounding him were his Mandalorians who were carrying their blasters as the UNSC was still informed that they were prototypes but Tom had heard some rumors that the Huragok that ONI captured had been building tech for them, who knows maybe the UNSC may make some home-grown laser weaponry.

The Mandalorians had their suits sealed and alongside them was a politician. There was a very important reason why Tom had so many members outside DI gathered around him.

As of that moment, he and the men with him, had arrived on Balaho, the homeworld of the Unggoy. The reason why he was there was very clear as GW had been able to provide more information that the Huragok _Rising Few_ had been willing to supply. Of these information was the Sangheili culture and Covenant social structure. ONI had eaten it all up but Tom had been able to bring up a very clear idea for the UNSC brass. The Unggoy.

The relationship that the humans and the Kig-Yar had was rarely publicized but they made it astoundingly clear that there was one. Over the course of the year, it had been a fine and dandy time for the UNSC. The Covenant, while not bulldozing through Cole's fleet, had sent a ripple through the Admiral. Ships were destroyed in plentiful numbers as Covenant ships only retreated until the very last remained.

Ground engagements were bloody and fought with tooth and nail, something that the UNSC was not used to. The Kig-Yar however had been instrumental, as they looted Covenant ships, trading weapons and technology as well as setting up elaborate traps with UNSC forces in a joint operations. For pirates the UNSC men and women had noted their experienced and precise military actions.

The Kig-Yar had been a massive help to the war effort as the UNSC had lost thirty outbound Colony worlds too far away for Cole's fleet to reach in time. They didn't have the manpower, the ships or the speed to be able to hold it all. But there was a species that did, there was a species that could multiply by the thousands and had stood against the Covenant once upon a time to boot.

The Unggoy. They were small and cowardly little buggers that the marines had called Grunts but in the new information that had been provided by GW, both the UNSC and Tom had opened their eyes. Tom himself hadn't known this part of Unggoy history.

The Unggoy had been forced under Covenant ranks, nearly been poisoned by the Kig-Yar and had rebelled against the Covenant to the point that the only way to stop them was to glass their planet by the order of an Arbiter. There were worries that the Kig-Yar might abandon the UNSC should they associate themselves with the Unggoy but all of them agreed that the little Grunts, with their mass reproduction and numbers, would certainly be a force to be reckoned with especially if they could incite a second Unggoy rebellion on High Charity- which they still did not know the location of.

"Alright, let's move," Tom said and watched as the ship dropped. The methane gas could be seen entering the small passenger hold of the pelican and Tom squinted his eyes over the harsh winds and the cold temperature of Balaho.

The rocky mountains and steep snow made it feel like he had stepped in an arctic storm yet, while it was cold, it was still warm enough that Tom could walk around without his jacket and only receive minor frostbite. The methane in the air must be keeping the atmosphere just hot enough for life to prevail but even so, just enough wasn't good for him.

"Half the planet had been glassed," Tom said as he moved through the snow, frowning at the synthesized voice that came through. "The Sangheili Arbiter had completely killed off a major part of its population centres, most Unggoy live on High Charity now but there are still plenty of tribes on Balaho."

"Remember Mr Breiler," the Politician interjected, "You're here as a consultant, I will do most of the talking." Tom frowned but nodded regardless, however he couldn't help but point his thumb in the direction of the ONI Operative.

"Then what's he here for?" Tom asked.

"I'm here to document the events," Fink said hotly, "and assess the Unggoy for any strengths and weaknesses."

"Mostly weaknesses am I not mistaken?" Tom asked. He frowned but didn't comment as they continued to move. The space around Balaho was unusually empty, the Covenant races had barely thought to fortify the Unggoy homeworld with such an insignificant part of its population still living on the planet. But there was still enough for the Unggoy to have reproduced hundreds of eggs and rebuilt the tribal lands of their ancestors.

A scan of the planet surface had revealed the biggest one of these tribes, one that spanned as far as New York, was situated between two mountains on the southern hemisphere. "Remember we're dealing with a meritocracy, so keep in respectful stances and guns pointed to the ground."

Tom signalled his men to do as the politician suggested and he could hear Math Ma grumbling about it. Tom chuckled and patted the woman on the shoulder, who turned away to look at dunes of snow in the distance. The rocky mountains and the billowing winds, it certainly looked like a scene from a movie to just look at.

"This place is quite beautiful," The politician, Derek Frozche, said.

"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder," Tom said, cringing silently at his odd and cheesy line, "But is it really so? Beauty is in itself, whole, and true."

"I don't understand," Fink said honestly, watching Tom curiously.

"There are a lot of things each individual doesn't understand. In the end it's however you wish it to be," Tom told him. The Lieutenant seemed to frown and he looked back to the front when he realised Tom wouldn't elaborate.

"There are things I don't understand myself," Derek said at the front, "Like how someone in his late twenties was able to manage such a prosperous PMC and Research group. And how that same PMC head has so much clout in the UNSC to the point that he is privy to top secret information and a delegation spot to a meeting of peace between an alien culture."

Tom didn't like how Derek was questioning him, couldn't he just accept a gift and appreciate all the work he was putting? Things would be so much easier if didn't have to deal with constant suspicion. "I don't mean to sound rude but last I check, when a man in charge of the company that supplies not only the armor and weapons of an armed force, but the precious metal that has kept them safe from plasma burns and vacuum decompression, is well-versed in the art of the words, pen and paper as well as war, that person deserved some modicum of respect."

Derek made a grunt as the group crested a hill, the beginning of small huts made out of stone and wood coming up. "Respect is earned," Derek said.

 _What?_ Tom thought incredulously. "And I have most definitely earned it! My men have been marching against the Innies alongside the UNSC for years and now we stand together against the Covenant. I've provided everything the UNSC needs to win a war and suggested many plans and actions that has won them many battles. I have earned that respect," Tom seethed.

"Of whom? The UNSC? Or your own country?" Tom blinked, confused by what the politician said. He was about to interject but he heard the squawk of Unggoy as they spotted the human beings.

Tom held his tongue as the group raised their hands in front of the Unggoy. It seemed like the Unggoy of Balaho weren't given the luxuries of those on High Charity, even if those luxuries came with a terrible price. They were huddled together in rags, barely covering their bodies, and in their hands were clubs and other primitive weapons.

Tom felt even more sorry for the Unggoy and silently cursed himself for the hundreds he had killed from Halo CE to 3. Those little guys sure as hell didn't deserve it.

They made several hisses and growls at the humans and Tom tapped the politician on the shoulder. "Turn on your translator," Tom advised. He nodded and alongside the ONI Lieutenant they all pressed a button on the side of their headset. The growls and barks dissolved into high-pitched squeals and warnings.

"Do not worry, we are not here to harm you. We merely wish to speak to your leader," Derek told them all.

"We seek no talk with you, more aliens come down to Balaho to take us Unggoy to war. The Covenant is enough, we seek no more death and destruction," and Unggoy said as he swung a stick in the air. But when Derek turned his gaze onto the little alien it quickly cowered and retreated to its brethren.

"We're not here to drag you to war, or enslave you, we merely wish to speak," Derek tried to placate them by dropping to his knees and becoming a little bit closer to their height.

"Her Ladyship is busy, she has no time to waste with you," an Unggoy said roughly, "For what purpose do you seek her?"

Derek titled his head, trying to think of something to say but Tom decided to butt in, if only because he didn't like the politician. "We come to seek an audience to speak about our war with the Covenant and our empathy to your plight in the Unggoy rebellions."

The little creatures gasped, as though surprised, and huddled close together. "Do not speak of that," the most vocal Unggoy said. "Our numbers, our people were burned to smithereens during those times. You would be wise to hold your tongue."

Tom frowned, it seemed the Unggoy on Balaho were more aggressive than those on High-Charity, most likely due to the glassing of their planet. Before Tom could say anymore though there many surprised yelps as the Unggoy behind the group parted and before long another one of the creatures, this one slightly larger, marched past the group. "Mistress Heta!" one of the Unggoy said in fright as he tried to stop her, "Please stop it is dangerous."

"Tetap, move. I wish to see these demons and desecrators myself." The Unggoy, a female if the 'Mistress' was anything to go by, said as she waddled past Tetap.

She stood in front of the small group, eyeing the strange weapons, the armor, and then looked at Derek. "The children of Balaho have suffered enough by the hands of the Covenant, our brethren on High Charity march now to keep our homeland safe, whatever you desire, demon, we cannot give."

"We merely seek an audience," Derek said, "So that we may present you with an alternative."

"What alternative do you wish to speak? An alternative where more Unggoy ride out to war? An alternative where we, the Unggoy, serve _you_ rather than the Covenant? Here on Balaho, we Unggoy are free, we seek to serve no one," the little Unggoy said, more bite in her voice then Tom had realised was possible for the little race.

"Here on Balaho, the Covenant had glassed your world," Tom said. Derek turned to him, a sharp glare in his eyes as gritted his teeth.

Some of the Unggoy looked at the ground, as though reliving the memory that had happened so few years ago, and the Mistress turned to him. "Is that a threat?" She asked. "My sons had been on High Charity when the Covenant glassed Balaho, I am proud of them and their actions in the rebellion."

Tom nodded and raised his hand so the politician would shut up. "What is it, Mistress, that made your sons go to war with the Covenant? Those creatures are bigger, stronger and better trained. They could have marched through those Unggoy lines, burning a bloody swath through their ranks and yet they fought."

The Mistress looked up at the sky, then shook her head, "They were tired, we were tired. Balaho has heard their cries and whispers of tragedy on High Charity. They were suffering and so they fought back, wished to end their suffering but ultimately found their hopes crushed when Balaho was glassed."

"Your people are very brave, Mistress," Tom said quietly. She glanced up, surprise in her eyes. Tom ignored and glanced at all the Unggoy that had gathered there, looking at him, watching him. "Do you understand me? You Unggoy are brave!" He said louder, not quite shouting.

"What are you trying to do?" The Mistress said in warning.

Tom looked down on her, "They went to war with the Covenant and nearly _destroyed_ them," Tom told her. She scrunched her forehead together.

"I don't understand," The Mistress admitted.

Tom frowned and then rose to his full height, passing the Mistress and stopping in front of Tetap. "Had you seen the rebellion?"

Tetap cowered but shook his head, "No, but I had many brothers on High Charity," he looked down at his feet, "they died, however."

" _How?_ " Tom urged.

He looked confused, "Defending one of the habitats on High Charity against the Kig-Yar and Sangheili."

"Did he win?" Tom asked.

"I do not know," Tetap admitted, still looking confused. Tom nodded, more to himself than anything, and stood up, looking at each Unggoy in turn.

"Proud sons of Balaho," Tom yelled, so unexpectedly and out of the blue that most of the Unggoy turned to him immediately. "What have you become? Taken by the Covenant, turned to slaves and workers, and treated like animals. What have you let yourselves become!" He yelled, the mask he wore had synthesized his voice, making it louder and more ominous, if that carried over the translator as well.

"Your brothers and sisters on High Charity marched against the Covenant. They fought with zeal and honor, cutting down the Sangheili and the Kig-Yar in their way. Even the mighty Lekgolo fell under the horde of righteous fury," Tom yelled. The Unggoy shuffled forward, trying to see where he was going with this. "And you, every single one of you, the Unggoy, had created such a rebellion that the Prophets had to make an Arbiter, their _best,_ their most _faithful_ , to defeat you. And how did he do it? He glassed your homeland! He glassed your heart! He glassed you, from atop his ship, and burned you to smithereens."

The Unggoy bowed their heads, the memory resurfacing. Tom quickly went to change that, "Yet you feel sad?" Tom questioned, "The Sangheili! The greatest race in the Covenant had been so desperate to defeat you, that their very _Arbiter_ called upon an honorless victory. He glassed your planet, rather than fight the Unggoy, he sat on his ship, rather than land on this planet. He _feared_ the Unggoy, and you yourselves can feel that!"

The Unggoy waddled closer, eyes gleaming as they tried to comprehend these words that Tom showed them. "I stand here, in front of you, not to drag you to war but beseech you, proud sons and daughters of Balaho, to rise up. To earn back your freedom! No, to take back what was already in reach. The children of Balaho are brave! Are strong! I ask not for you to fight for us, but to stand with us. Equal in arms and strength as we march against the Covenant, the creatures that ridiculed you, that burned you, that killed your numbers."

"I am asking you to do what you could have always done. I'm asking you to rise and become the mighty children of Balaho again!" The Unggoy cheered, their high-pitched voices were loud but Tom could tell they were only focusing on one part of Tom's speech.

"Did you hear that, he said we almost beat High-Charity."

"Our brothers had actually managed it!"

"The Sangheili threw away their honor to defeat us, unbelievable."

"Silence!" The Mistress hissed. She waddled forward, looking up at Tom as she did. "Calm yourselves. Outsider, how do we know your words ring true? How do we know you will not become like the Covenant and destroy us and what of our brothers on High Charity?"

"We will liberate them, for as long as the Unggoy live we shall march with them against the Covenant. Let that ring true, Mistress, I can swear it. The Unggoy have suffered enough, died needlessly enough. It's time for you to rise and free all your wayward kind. It's time, Mistress, for the Unggoy to rise."

The Mistress was silent, then she nodded. "I must confer with the other Matriarchs, return her by tomorrow to receive your answer."

Tom smiled and turned back to his group. The politician was frowning and the ONI Lieutenant was looking at him more analytically.

"Bravo on the speech," Derek said, "But I think you promised them too much."

Tom smirked, "I promised them nothing. All I told them was what their past rebellion had been achieved and told them that Humanity would fight with them against the Covenant, a given. I promised nothing more," Tom shot back.

Derek tilted his head and nodded, "True."

"Yet, if the Unggoy does join, Dimensional Intervention would have already created weapons and armor, as well as ships, for them to use?" The ONI Lieutenant said.

"Within reason," Tom stated, "ONI may not trust aliens with technology, but the Unggoy are loyal creatures. They'll remember our actions for years to come." Tom already felt tired talking about this and manipulated the ONI agent's mind. Acceptance. Then he added a new one, understanding.

"I concur with you, even if I still feel it is foolish," Fink said, "No, I...I'm at a lost." Tom raised an eyebrow, _that was new_.

The Lieutenant seemed to struggle with his words before shaking his head, "I'll concede to your actions for now," Fink said finally.

Tom nodded and led his men back to the pelican. As they entered the small ship ascended to atmosphere where several orbitals were in place, guarding the planet.

The stations had rudimentary plasma torpedos and a small fleet of frigates. Nothing that the ONI prowler couldn't hide from. If the UNSC wanted Balaho's assistance, then they had to eliminate these ships from orbit.

Logistical problems came into play. It took a trip of six months from the nearest UNSC planet to be able to achieve that but the Huragok _Lighter Than Some_ had been able to upgrade the Shaw-Fujikawa drives of the UNSC so the trip could be shortened to four and a half months. But still, that was a long time a for a fleet of any significance to be gone.

Oh well, Tom was getting ahead of himself. He should wait and see what the Unggoy would have to say.

- **James Cutter** -

"How far along the Arctic has the Covenant moved?" He asked his AI Serina as he stared at the holo-table. Serina paused as she calculated the distance before shrugging.

"The original group of Covenant ground forces had landed in different areas when the fleet arrived, it would be impossible for me to calculate how much travel each individual group traveled to reach the Arctic region," she admitted, "Then you have to consider how they got past the body of water."

James nodded in acceptance and sighed. "Strange indeed," he agreed. He tapped his desk and allowed it to zoom in on an image that had been sent up by one of the SPARTAN teams on Harvest's surface. A silver armored Elite, having greater shields and command over the Elites on Harvest.

He was designated a priority target and had been spotted moving to the Arctic region. "I wonder what he is doing," James muttered.

"The UNSC _Alaska_ is contacting us, Sir," Serina informed him. Cutter nodded and smoothed out his Captain's uniform as an image of Admiral Cole appeared. James saluted to which the Admiral returned.

"Captain," he said, "I've received reports of Covenant activity outside Yulanda-II, I have no ships that I can spare from the other fleets, so I'll be redirecting the _Alaska, Goodwill_ and the Gorgon ships with me. Hold down the fort Captain, you'll be in charge while I'm gone."

James nodded, "Of course, Sir." Cole cut off the transmission and Cutter rubbed his eyes, wariness taking form on his face.

"How many ships does the Covenant have? For our forces to be spread so thin, why hasn''t FLEETCOM send us anymore additional troops?" He wondered out loud.

"Perhaps the UNSC is preparing something? More additional units to muster before committing a force?" Serina supplied.

Cutter shook his head, "I'd take one Marathon for a fleet at the moment."

"Sir! Enemy cruisers has entered the system! No wait, three of them! Moving fast to Harvest!" Cutter turned, surprised and wide eyed as the aliens arrived just as Cole's cruiser had been completely engulfed by the Slipspace portal.

"Bring up the weapons, all ships on full burn. Get me the _Pillar of Autumn_ and the _Buccaneer._ All additional Frigates are to provide support!"

"Sir their launching fighters...wait one moment. Troop transports and...a new type of fighter, moving down to Harvest, Sir!" An officer supplied.

"Can we shoot them down?" Cutter asked as he took a seat down on his command chair.

"Negative, Sir! The fighters are defending them and the alien cruisers are lining up for a shot." Cutter frowned and quickly assessed the situation. He nodded to himself after a moment, realising the most logical choice.

"Have the Cruisers concentrate fire on the first alien vessel. Serina, inform General Stanton and Denton of the situation, launch all additional ground force towards the surface. They'll need the extra help!" Cutter ordered just as the aliens fired their first salvo.

The plasma torpedos arched through space and slammed into the _Spirit of Fire_ , splashing against the PCV hull. The ship shuddered and warning lights flashed on all throughout the ship.

"The Conductive Material is holding up at fifty-three percent, minimal damage to software however several parts of the ship is severely damaged," Serina reported.

"All ships fire!" Cutter roared. The Frigates all fired their Mass Drivers at the same time, splashing across the alien shields. The ship cracked and vented then the Cruisers fired their MACs, bisecting the ship from stem to stern.

The alien fighters streaked by the _Spirit of Fire_ and shot down several of their side turrets. The ship rocked and Cutter gritted his teeth.

- **Sergeant John Forge** -

Forge cursed as he drove his warthog through the freezing arctic region of Harvest. Even though he was a marine, Captain Cutter had seen fit to attach several of him and his leathernecks under General Denton's command.

It had been all well and good, even as Alpha Base, Bravo Base and Charlie Base had been set up. All that changed when Covenant ground force began assaulting them in bulk, cutting through his men as they did. Hundreds of Covenant troops that had initially landed on the region to those that made the migration, all poured down on his forces.

His warthogs treads shrieked as they slid against the ice and he drove inside Charlie Base. The war had only been going on for almost a year and a half and Forge thought he had seen enough.

He jumped out of his warthog and raced up onto one of the secured walls of the base. From there he was given a pair of binoculars and allowed to look up at the descending covenant transports. They were T-shaped with some that were oval and looked more like a beached whale. Forge frowned and was unsurprised when AA guns lit up and started shooting them down.

He would have cheered if it weren't for the new fighters that swooped down low and fired green plasma into the turrets. They shuddered before exploding, disappearing in a spray of sparks and machinery. "Enemy Air! Get down!" Forge yelled to his men as he dove to cover. He heard explosions go off behind him, billowing flames of fire and plasma as he pressed himself against the metal floor.

Twisting, he caught sight of marines and army personnel trying to quell the fires, even as more Banshees, which he decided to name them, continued their aerial assault.

"When did they started using fighter craft in atmosphere," Forge muttered as he pulled himself forward. The Sergeant pulled himself up, dusting the snow off his white and light blue striped CBA as he stared into the sky. More of those aircraft were flying down, escorting the troop transports as they landed just outside the base.

"To the wall!" Forge shouted, "We have heavy Covenant forces marching towards the gate!" Even as he said this the first of the Covenant infantry already reached the front of Charlie base.

Warthogs moved out of the base, their gattling guns spewing hot lead as they moved through the snow covered dunes. Forge glanced over the wall and widened his eyes when he saw one of the smaller Grunts move forward while shaking a plasma launcher in its grasp.

"Get off the wall!" He yelled as he leapt off, followed by the various soldiers around him. The next thing to happen was a large explosion, marked by green flakes of plasma, blasting that whole section apart.

Forge landed in a heap, coughing as the snow got into his mouth. A marine helped him to his feet and passed him a shotgun. Nodding his thanks Forge quickly turned to the men mustering to meet the Covenant assault.

Hornets had begun flying out of the base hangar bays, meeting the alien fighters, and while that was going on the Warthogs were meeting the alien infantry head on.

A warthog stopped in front of him and he quickly got on, pumping his shotgun as he did. "Alright let's go!" He ordered. The driver obliged and revved the engine up. Outside the base a full platoon of marines had dug themselves up behind the remnants of warthogs, using that as cover as they fired at the advancing aliens. Their CBAs met the plasma blow for blow with the alien shields but each had their faults.

Some plasma splashed and covered the underside of their armor, where it was replaced by PCVs instead of a full-lining of Beskar. Marines dropped to the ground, clutching wounds as they yelled out angry and anguished screams.

Forge's warthog crashed onto the battlefield, slamming into an Elite and its squad of Grunts as it stopped. The Elite plastered to the hood was sent flying off from the lost of momentum and crashed into another group of Covenant. Forge aimed his shotgun and fired. The first alien balked as it dropped backwards, shields gone, and the second volley of pellets killed it. The other Covenant forces were mowed down by the LRV's machine gun.

The enemy force consisted mostly of Grunts and Jackals, with Skirmishers running up alongside the nearby cliffs providing sniper support. Forge cursed inwardly, even as his machine gunner had been killed by a Skirmisher sniper. Frowning Forge stood up from his seat as his warthog rammed into Grunts and Jackal shields, and hopped onto the gunner seat.

Swinging the M14 around, he fired a continuous burst into the ridgeline, scoring some kills as the Skirmishers were forced to retreat. But he found his short moment of victory overshadowed as an Elite had jumped onto the hood of the warthog and ignited its plasma sword. Forge twisted the gun to mow him down but the powerful Elite had grabbed its barrel and slice in half with his sword.

The driver pulled out his pistol and tried to shoot down the Elite but the Covenant alien merely dropped a kick onto his head. The driver snapped back to his chair, dazed and screamed as the alien plunged a sword into his gut. Forge looked in distraught as the marine was killed but was forced to jump off it when it was about to crash into a Hunter.

The Elite on the vehicle roared as it was launched into the air, flailing its arms before it crashed into a mountain side. Judging from how its shields flared and the blue blood staining the rock, Forge guessed he was dead. The Hunter on the hand roared as it knocked the warthog into the air.

Forge staggered to his feet and pulled out his shotgun as the alien tried to take a swing at him using its shielded arm. The Sergeant ducked, bucked his knees, and dove to the Hunter's side. Managing a roll even in the snow he snapped up into a crouch and fired his shotgun into the orange exposed skin at its back. Orange flakes of blood and flesh was sent into the air and the large alien roared, the spines on its back reverberating as it slumped to the ground.

Another Hunter roared at the loss of its bond brother and the plasma cannon attached to its arm lit up in greenish energy. Forge quickly ducked, burying his hands into the snow as the green flash of energy nearly singed his back plates.

The Hunter tried to shot him down again but a warthog slammed its hood into its back, even while the gunner unloaded into the behemoths head. It roared, hands pushing uselessly against the snow as it tried to stand back up, before crashing back down. Covenant plasma fire slammed into the warthogs side and a marine hopped out to help Forge to his feet.

"Enemy units are converging onto Charlie Base, Bravo is likewise under attack and losing ground. Sergeant, we cannot hold this position!" The marine advised.

The warthog exploded, killing the driver and knocking the gunner onto his back as the remnants of the vehicle flew into the air. The marine that was Forge grabbed him and tossed him behind a rock. The marine ran behind him but a needler had slammed into his knee and exploded, creating a large gash in his leg.

The marine stumbled to the ground and cried out in pain. Forge quickly shot out and grabbed him, dragging him back to cover as plasma scorched off their cover.

"This is Forge in front of Charlie Base, General if you're hearing me we need help!" Forge yelled even as more Banshees flew low to the ground and bombed the marines that had formed a line in front of Charlie Base. He could see the marines get launched in the air, flailing arms around as they fell towards the ground.

Hornets buzzed by, the marines latched onto the side trying their best to slow the tide of Covenant forces as their transports fought with the Banshees in the air. It twisted and turned and was shot out of the air by a passing Banshee, launching the marines off and sending the vehicle into giant sparks of fire.

Forge turned to his side and balked. More Covenant transports had landed, and alien troops that had seemingly arrived on foot and vehicles from other parts of Harvest appeared, unmistakable with the dirt still clinging to their forms.

 _Negative, Alpha and Bravo Base are under attack as well. Covenant air support is maiming our ground forces and keeping us still, you're on your own Forge, Godspeed_. Forge cursed and grabbed the wounded marine.

Grabbing a rifle and pulling it to his hip, he hefted the marine on his shoulder and slowly dragged the marine back while firing at the Covenant aliens that turned to him.

Some Jackals and Grunts were firing their plasma weapons, the blue flashes of energy sparking off his chest plate and helmet. "Give me a pistol," the marine said weakly next to Forge. The Sergeant nodded and took out his pistol, handing it to the marine as they continued to move backwards.

A few bursts of his RAR and the Jackals were on the ground, twitching, while the marine had successfully placed holes into the Grunts.

The aliens fell to their fire but eventually Forge hit a dead end. He sighed and placed the marine down while reloading his weapon. Both of them continued to fight to their last breath, the few croppings of rock around them providing them cover to last out a little but longer.

But just as Forge thought he was done for, the sound of a warthog engine revving to life was heard and the named UNSC vehicle came tumbling down the mountainside, crashing into the alien forces.

Stunned Forge was surprised to see three SPARTANs jumping out of the car, swinging rifles left and right.

The one with a shotgun advanced towards the aliens, shrugging off hits and cutting down troops where they stood while another behind the turret mowed down the aliens with the machine gun.

"Sir!" A SPARTAN in red and black armor sprinted to him and crouched. From her voice he guessed she was female. "The situation is worsening, we'll take you to safety, Sir!" The female said as she shouldered the marine and pointed to the warthog.

"You don't have to tell me twice, but I'm not leaving my men!" Forge said, shaking his head as he helped the SPARTAN place the injured marine onto the passenger seat.

She glanced at him before nodding after a minute, "Echo-3 take the warthog and head to the east, Echo-2 you're with me." The SPARTANs nodded and Forge watched as the blue one hopped onto the warthog and drove off while the one behind the gun jumped off.

"Where are we going," the sniper asked, revealing herself as female. With the shotgun wielding SPARTAN no longer there the aliens continued to converge on the small group, resulting them to take cover.

"Echo-2 try and see if you can't find your way up the mountain side and provide cover for us. Me and the Sergeant will make our way towards the marines and see what we can do." The SPARTAN nodded and took off, scaling the mountain side with her jetpack.

Seeing her gone, the red and black SPARTAN aimed hee gauntlet at the Covenant and fired a grenade into their ranks. The explosion caught the aliens by surprise, giving the both of them the chance to run off towards the marines.

Forge couldn't quite run as fast as the SPARTAN and that resulted her in carrying him. Whatever inhibitions he had about being carried quickly dashed away as Covenant plasma fire was absorbed by the SPARTANs tougher armor.

She stopped herself right next the wreckage of one of the automated turrets and Forge was allowed down to see a hundred or so wounded marines and soldiers spread out, trying to keep the tide of aliens at bay. "What do you have for me soldier!" Forge asked as he moved in between the throng of fallen and wounded.

"The scorpions are gone! The Cobras have been able to set up near Checkpoint Bravo but the area is starting to strain with Covenant forces. The whole area is saturated with them!" Several marines next to them yelled in pain as needles poked through their necks and wrists, before exploding and killing them instantly. Forge shielded himself from the gore with his arm and stared out at the near tsunami of alien forces.

" _Spirit of Fire_ , this is Sergeant Forge requesting immediate close air support, do you copy _Spirit of Fire_?" John asked. Looking up he saw twin explosions appeared in atmosphere, so bright that he could see it as clear as the moon.

 _The_ Spirit of Fire _cannot provide assistance. Enemy reinforcements have landed in system and we cannot risk movement. We're all on our own_. Captain Cutter replied.

Forge cursed and called for a shotgun. He got his answer and pumped it as he stared at the SPARTAN. She glanced at him, silent as her visor reflected his image. Then she nodded.

"Echo-2 we need some support on our position, priority targets, Elites and Hunters, understood?" She said into her COMM.

Immediately an Elite at the frontlines was shot down with the crack of a VSR, and then another following another. The Jackals on the rockside had saw this and tried to snipe the SPARTAN down but Forge wouldn't allow it.

"Rocket Launchers, up on those hills!" He ordered. There was a moment of scrambling as the marines searched for any Rockets Launchers. In that time the Jackals managed to squeeze off a few shots but the SPARTAN still persisted and was able to take down a Hunter pair. While that was going on the other SPARTAN had slowly fanned out, firing a sustained burst into the alien ranks. She rolled backwards, away from the green plasma of a Hunter, and scooped up a fallen Rocket Launcher half buried in the snow.

She aimed it at the rock line and fired. The rocket flew and slammed into the Jackal lines, sending chunks of rock and debris into the sky as Jackals were either killed instantly or knocked off the mountain. The marines had finally gotten their weapons and fired at the rock side, causing the mountain to crack and for chunks of huge rock and snow to slide down. Covenant forces nearest the mountain side were engulfed with a mini-avalanche and it lowered the pressure the marines were facing.

"Alright men," Forge roared, "Own your uniform, get ready for another battle!" The surviving marines pushed up off the defilade and fired at the aliens that had been caught surprised by the avalanche. The Grunts fell first then the Jackals, the Elites slowly retreated, letting their shields take the punishment as they dual-wield small plasma rifles.

Grabbing one of the alien weapons, Forge tossed it to one of the army personnel, whose Beskar armor was lighter than the marines. "Anybody who doesn't have a weapon pick up the aliens, we're moving forward!" Forge ordered and the marines slowly, little by little pushed forward.

"Covenant air!" A marine shouted and Forge looked in dismay as another wing of Banshees flew low to meet them. But one of them exploded out of the air, causing the others to disperse. Looking behind he spotted the Cobra's move forward, weapons hot as they fired at the Banshees.

Forge would have celebrated but the machines looked worse for wear. Their treads were smoking and their radiators looked busted open, one of the Cobras had just spontaneously combusted. "Sir, we have to keep moving," the SPARTAN urged.

John nodded and he led his men passed the Covenant, towards a cave entrance near the mountain. All the while he ignored the men that they were forced to leave behind back at base or who were injured during the movement.

From his HUD he could count at least two hundred marines following him, with twice that number of army personnel as they moved. The two different companies intermixed and joined in an effort to escape the aliens, but some were shot down or left behind as the aliens drew nearer.

Forge could see, even as they drifted closer to the caves, that the Elites and Hunters had caught up with them, despite the best efforts of the SPARTAN sniper. The Elites dropped their rifles and ignited their swords, meeting marines with dangerous swings of their swords. Whole squads were bisected or beheaded with Hunters blasting holes through their ranks.

Forge could only grit his teeth and fight.

- **John** -

John moved through the remains of Corbulo academy, a loose gaggle of recruits and ODSTs he had managed to secure while Blue Team was out gathering more survivors.

The Covenant had moved in with force, faster than Cole's fleet had been able to react.

He glanced back at the ODSTs dressed in full BDA (Beskar Drop Armor) and the recruits in makeshift training gear. He could only frown, beyond the ODSTs, the recruits were becoming a weight but John had his orders and he wasn't willing to leave a human being on this world to be glassed by the Covenant.

He moved stealthily through the forests, his boots barely making a noise as he kept a close eye on his radar. He had foregone the idea of taking the warthog, as human forces had set up a secured LZ for any civilian to evacuate. He had left Kelly there just in case as well.

They stopped and waited, then they saw several Jackals walk by. John decided to deal with them quickly and ordered the ODSTs and recruits to stay put. They nodded in acknowledgement and John let his vibroblade appear, before driving it into the Jackals one by one. None realised that they were dead before they hit the ground.

He heard more sounds and snapped his weapon to the left as his radar suddenly picked up something above him. He rolled forward, dodging a Hunter as it crashed onto the ground. Snapping up he fired at the creature's front but all he was met with was his bullets pinging off the creature's armor. It swung its shield at John and it smacked painfully into his armor, sending him flying through the tree line.

The ODSTs quickly opened fire at the creatures back, killing it and elites suddenly appeared, killing a few of the ODST with hits to their necks and waists where the Beskar was light. John quickly got up, saving the recruits and a few ODSTs as he fired his grenade launcher.

The Elites were blown back and John quickly ordered them to run. "Head to the LZ," John said. The ODSTs quickly grabbed the recruits and ran off while John shot down the Elites.

They marched forward, meeting him beat by beat with their swords cutting the projectiles out of the way. When they reached him they finally cut his gun to two, but not after three Elites fell. John let his vibroblade appear and blocked one of the Elites strikes.

He lunged forward and grabbed it by its mandibles. Driving the vibroblade into the Elites neck, John heard a satisfying squelch sound before ripping the blade free sideway and driving it into an alien's chest. He twisted and drove it upwards, killing the creature. An Elite swung at John's back and the sword bounced off his armor, but a piece of it singed his underlining of PCV. It dropped to thirty percent and John could feel the sting and heat of the sword on his lower back.

He twisted around and slammed an elbow into the creature's head but another Elites had appeared and grabbed his shoulders. It tugged and John was sent shooting back into the forest line. He stumbled, landing onto his back with his arms held down by an Elite. One of them poised itself to kill John but before it could, it was suddenly sent sprawling into the air.

John was surprised, cocking his head to the side, before a man dressed in old, laughable clothes appeared. But his battle prowess was far from it and he had quickly killed the aliens, burning a bloody swath through them and shot something akin to lightning from his fingertips. John was surprised but he saw a metal band on the man's wrist, perhaps a device that allowed electricity to come out?

Nonetheless the Elites were quickly killed off expertly by the noire detective. He had rolled behind a tree and snapped off four precised headshots into the Elites head. Seeing them gone the man walked up to the down SPARTAN and offered a gruff look.

"Are you going to sit there or stand up and play soldier?" He asked.

John quickly got up. "Identify yourself," John ordered.

"Booker DeWitt, Dimensional Intervention Special Forces. Here to help hold the Outer Colonies, perhaps you've heard of me?" John had, the two gungho and stereotypical mercenaries Alpha and Bravo and the quiet and reserved Booker DeWitt and Jack Ryan. The latter had rumors circulating about at being able to send men into the air, shoot lining and control bees. John wasn't sure about the last one but the first two were a dead ringer.

"How's the academy?" Booker asked.

"The space elevator was immediately shot down once the Covenant arrived. The recruits were still on the surface when it happened and had managed to hold off a number of Covenant assaults alongside marines and ODSTs. I had escorted some of the survivors towards LZ Jacob, while the rest headed towards the military base southwest of here," John informed. DI Operatives technically outranked John, but then again most soldiers did, and the man nodded.

"Alright, carry on soldier. I'll be heading to the military base to keep those kids alive," John nodded and the two men split. Each moving at their objective.


	19. Chapter 19

Forge was plastered to the ground, his armored chest buried deep into the snow as he slowly crawled forward. From his vantage point he could see the Elites marching off into a metal temple in the ice pack.

He brought his binoculars up and watched as they continued to excavate more of it out and send troops inside. "Well that's something you don't see everyday," he muttered.

SPARTAN 023 and 069 were behind him, keeping a close eye on his flank. They watched his back like a hawk and Forge felt safe in knowing these super soldiers would ensure his safety. When the Covenant made the assault into the arctic region, his men had been outnumbered and outgunned. He had lost a nearly three hundred marines and four and a half hundred soldiers.

The remnants of Charlie Base had retreated to the mountain side where they now engaged in guerilla warfare with the enemy, breaking Covenant supply lines and taking out small patrols. Alpha Base and Bravo Base weren't as lucky and had been under continuous bombing Covenant Air when they first swooped in. General Denton was presumed dead or captured.

"This is Forge to _Spirit of Fire_ , reconnaissance of Covenant forces have revealed that they've dug something up from ice, looks like a temple," Forge reported into his COMM.

 _Say again Sergeant? A temple?_ Dr Anders, a scientist that had arrived on board an ONI prowler, asked.

Forge stared at the long arching spires, the ceremonial carvings on the metal and the excessive ornaments. "Oh trust me ma'am, it's definitely a temple." There was silence on the other end before Cutter spoke up.

 _How many Covenant troops do you estimate Sergeant?_ Forge could do the mental calculation but decided the direct approach.

"Enough to obliterate what's left of my men, Sir." He could hear the SPARTANs behind tapping each other's armor, a non-verbal way for them to inform him that danger was coming. After months of working together with them he obliged and slowly moved away from the ridge.

 _General Stanton has several Scorpions and Companies of Marines prepared to make the move to the Arctic. To add to this the Pillar of Autumn has several Caspers in its bay capable of atmospheric flight but only if you eliminate the enemy AA_.

Forge frowned, remembering the various Covenant bases that were spread out around the temple. He glanced back at the SPARTANs and shook his head, a grim look of determination in his eyes.

"We'll get it done, just get those birds in the air," Forge then cut the line and started moving towards the warthog parked beyond the crest of the snow dunes.

023 stepped up next to him, her RAR held in her fingertips as she peered curiously at his face. "What are we going to do, Sir?"

Forge said nothing as he jumped onto his warthog, signalling the SPARTANs to do the same. Once everyone was saddled up Forge drove the vehicle down the ice cap, towards the various caves and tunnels that the remainder of h UNSC forces had found a home in.

"We're going to take back the Arctic, SPARTAN," Forge muttered, "Or die trying."

- **Thomas Lasky** -

Lasky frowned as he inspected his flight uniform, it was tight and it felt awkward to wear but if it kept him awake during high G flight then he wouldn't complain.

Nodding to his mirror after a moment he slammed the locker closed and headed off towards the hangar bay, all the while twirling a piece of rock that the Master Chief had given him.

After Corbulo Academy went up in plasma, Lasky had opted to remain with the UNSC. The remaining members of Hastati squad went their separate ways and if he remembered right Vickers had joined the marines as an Officer while Chylia had gotten a recommendation into the ODSTs. He wasn't sure if she accepted that position though nor was she willing to say.

Sully had joined ONI, which wasn't a huge surprise, working under a Commander Volpe as a communications officer between DI Special Forces and UNSC Ground Forces. Dimah had left the UNSC to become a journalist while Chen joined the Navy as a Junior Officer.

Lasky had that option as well when he decided on the Navy but he chose the life of a pilot, generously awarded the rank of Lieutenant, and flew as 2IC to Captain Radwerk of Artemis Wing.

He guessed it was a good life, he had resolved to fight off the Covenant as well after being saved by the Supersoldiers. He kept in constant contact with Chylia and Sully too, the latter having spoke about Dimah more often than not. Chen however was far out of his reach since he became the Weapons officer for a UNSC _Iroquois_ and Vickers was engaged in the Outer Colonies. And he didn't know what happened to April, but Chylia had caught a rumor that she was recruited by ONI. Sully hadn't commented on that.

"Hey kid, eyes up," Lasky felt someone slap the back of his head and looked up to see Captain Radwerk smiling down on him. The young Lieutenant resisted the urge to snap off a quick salute, knowing that the Captain wouldn't appreciate it.

"Sir," Lasky greeted. He soured a little bit, tasting some of the bile from Cryo settling into his stomach. Not to mention the rashes and bumps all across his back.

"How was Cryo? I thought with your condition you'd be in the med bay right now," Radwerk asked curiously. Lasky tried to keep his face neutral but truth be told Cryo became more and more painful with its use. Throughout the whole four months aboard the ship, the computer had woken him fifteen times to make sure that the disease didn't kill him after the whole four months.

"I've felt better but I'm still capable, Sir." Radwerk nodded his head, seemingly satisfied as he patted Lasky's shoulder.

"Good," the Captain said, "Because I'm going to need you at the of your game. You'll be leading Blue Squadron and those men and women will be needing you if they want to get out of this alive."

Just then the hangar bay was besieged with red lights and a loud screeching klaxon. "Looks like we're already in the thick of things," Radwerk said nonchalantly. He slapped Lasky on the shoulder and made a run for one of the Caspers in the hangar bay.

Lasky breathed out slowly and placed his flight helmet on. After shrugging the anxiety off his shoulders, he quickly made his way towards his Casper that was parked next to the others of Blue Squadron. He slipped into his pilot chair, pulling the canopy over and strapped himself in.

A light on his dashboard flickered green and a tactical layout of the battlefield appeared on his visor. He memorized the surroundings, the enemy fighters and the mission objective. He and Blue squadron were to clear the air space for marines to land on the half dozen orbitals around the planet.

"This is Blue-Lead to Blue squadron, form up on me!" Acknowledgement lights winked back at him and Lasky grabbed his controls, slowly easing his control yoke forward. The Casper responded lightly at first before it revved its engine to its highest and shot out of the UNSC carrier.

Immediately he placed his fighter into a bank, snapping a hard turn towards the planet they were assaulting. His squadron formed up behind him, their wings held close to his as their weapons systems came online. Lasky himself switched his rotary turret online and let his torpedos warm up in their tubes.

The darkness of space enveloped his white painted fighter craft, a stark contrast to the alien purple. His squadron lined up next to his ship and Thomas could see the alien craft racing the greet them.

His ships targeting reticles lit up, flashing a dangerous red, and Lasky pulled the trigger. 17.5X45MM rounds spewed out of the turret, slamming into the alien vessel. The Seraph fighter banked, grazing Lasky's canopy as the UNSC pilot moved to dodge. Then chaos reigned supreme.

Dogfights could be called disorientating, more so for the pilots who were in space. With space being an infinitely dark place with few flashing stars, the men and women behind the ships had to be on their toes as they made tight turns and maneuvers to hit their targets.

Lasky pulled back on his yoke and nearly had a heart attack as a Casper flew by followed by three Seraphs. Hoping to give a helping hand, Lasky brought his fighter around and fired into the tail end of one of the Seraphs. Its shiels spluttered before it failed and spun out of control in space, managing to crash into a unattentive Seraph as it flew around the battlefield.

The last two Covenant fighters pulled away and Lasky gave him a thumbs up when he flew by his cockpit. A wink of an acknowledgement light later and the young Lieutenant pulled up the COMM for Blue Squadron.

"We're moving in to assault the Orbital, Blue Squadron peel off and follow my lead," Lasky ordered. Acknowledgement lights winked on, even as a couple fighters began to move in line with his. Lasky, after making sure Blue Squadron was accounted for, pushed down on his yoke and brought his craft into a steep decline.

The craft swooped down low, speeding past a pair of Seraphs that were gunned down by the rest of Blue Squadron. Lasky pulled the trigger and watched as his bullets slammed into the fighters just leaving the Orbitals hangar bay. The Seraphs blew apart the moment they left, their shields scroll down and left completely open to the Caspers.

Blue Squadron dispersed, avoiding the Orbitals anti-air as they pounded down on the fragments of the alien fighter wing.

"Good job Lasky!" Radwerk complimented as his Casper flew by, simultaneously shooting down a Seraph. Lasky cheered alongside his men as the UNSC pounded on the Covenant.

He knew it was a small victory though, the briefing had said the planet was a small priority to the alien empire and that it wouldn't have much of a defense plan.

As Lasky flew over the methan planet, its icy white hues visible even in space, he wondered why the UNSC thought it prudent to launch such an elaborate offensive.

- **Tom** -

Tom grinned as he stared at Operation: MARITIME. The Unggoy had unanimously agreed to assist the UNSC, with the condition that the Unggoy are an independent group and their main priority being the liberation of Unggoy on High Charity and the Covenant Navy.

The UNSC has not allowed Tom to build weapons for the Unggoy however, the little Grunts would be left to use the Covenant weapons they stumble across but the Frigates that they would receive were modified versions of the Kig-Yar ships. Still retaining their fast and nimble movements but able to take more punch and dish out just as much.

But it took time before a fully functional army could be developed and ONI estimated it would be a year before the Unggoy would be prepared to assist the humans in any conventional manner and their idea to broadcast their newfound rebellion had be met with extreme disapproval by the UNSC brass. If the Covenant decided to attack the still unprepared Unggoy planet, then the UNSC would have to keep them safe from the coming assault. Of course the Covenant would find out eventually but it would be better if the UNSC had time to muster the troops.

Tom had other concerns though and he stuffed his hands into his pockets while he chewed on a piece of gum. Lately he'd been eating them more and more despite the fact that he hated gum, he just got an insatiable need to chew it.

But to more pressing matters, he glanced at Lieutenant Fink, who was standing next to him on the ONI prowlers observation room. Parangosky was starting to breathe down on Tom's neck more and more. She didn't appreciate how he kept meddling into UMSC affairs and indeed even the various heads were starting to get suspicious of him. Tom had heard from the grapevine that they weren't exactly thrilled with his power in the UNSC and its defense plans as well as his alien sympathetic mindset.

It was reaching the point where Tom was scared they might send troops to kill him off. The laser technology that they had been 'researching' was being provided by the Kig-Yar as well as shielding technology. To add to this, with him gone, DI as accordance to UNSC's emergency power authority would be stripped of its resources and placed under UNSC hands for the duration of the crisis. Of course that is if it was tangible. Beskar could only be made by Tom, same goes for Eezo. If they killed him and took over the company, DI would be rendered incapable of manufacturing anything more, because Tom would no longer be there to supply them.

Of course the brass didn't know this and Tom would be dead drunk before he would tell them that. So this was how it was going to be. He had recalled Manth Ma from the frontlines and returned her to security duty. He would not appreciate it if he could shot in the back because of Parangosky's meddling or even the UNSC's. Some of the brass had actually started to pull on his leg, showing just how much they appreciated his involvement. Of course they did show appreciation with Alpha, Bravo, Booker and all the other help that he provided but they made it very clear that Tom wasn't in charge, and that he wasn't even in a position to act like he was in charge.

It was very, _very,_ annoying to deal with. And he would rather be able to work just as he had in the past but that was no longer an option. He turned, eyebrows knitted as he walked down the length of the ONI Prowler. There was only a skeleton crew around, which wasn't surprising as a Prowler could be maintained with just one person, and only his Mandalorians really stood out in their full armor. Tom also guesses Fink was writing reports about his men, which he inferred in the way the Lieutenant stared at them from his little corner in the mess hall, which is more a room.

Ah, well, what could he do? He just had to change his plans from now on. But there was some fear there, very well-founded fear. DI had been in the limelight since it's existence, and the longer you stay in the light the easier and easier it is to spread gossip that could damage your reputation, truth or not.

Parangosky might do it, who knows. These were questions that Tom wished were answered.

- **Desmond** -

Desmond watched impassively as the five hundred children to become S-III's were being screamed at by Chief Mendez as they ran down the course. Fhajad was by his side, a disapproving face mixed with acceptance showing under the light.

When Desmond arrived Fhajad had been quick to speak with Kurt, questioning on his false MIA status. The fellow S-II had revealed some shocking news after that, well, to fhajad anyways who had no prior knowledge of the S-III Program.

But the sheer scope of it, five-hundred active duty SPARTANs was something he hadn't expected. But they wouldn't be at the exact level of the S-II's, well, in some cases. The augmentations they would be receiving from CHRYSANTHEMUM would be better than the S-II's just without the thyroid implant which gave them height. They wouldn't have the ceramic bones either but the S-III's would be, on average, on par with the S-II's baring experience and better armor.

The SPI armor would be outfitted with PCV's that had photo-reactive panels, a vibroblade would still be attached but they wouldn't have the increase in strength, reflexes and other faculties that the MJOLNIR provided. Neither the jetpack or the grenade launcher would be outfitted onto the the SPI armor but it would have an integrated power system which could accept Covenant technology.

Desmond was impressed and Kurt had talked to Fhajad about how his S-III's would be better than the S-II's after the end of five years. Fhajad was more critical and talked to jim about the accelerated training, the inferior armor and the augmentations that while on par with Halsey's project, would rely too much on the S-III cadets margin within the genetic markers of the original S-II and separate S-III program resulting in more erratic and non-uniform augmentations between each cadet. Kurt had rebuked that those faults would be managed between each different company and squad but Fhajad was still not convinced but assured Kurt hat in either case his S-III's would be a welcomed asset.

"I just hope the others feel the same," Fhajad muttered.

Kurt merely shook his head as he laughed, "If it was one thing Mendez taught us, it was to look out for each other. I have no doubt that the others, even John, would accept them with open arms."

Desmond shrugged, not particularly interested in that. His doubts lie in Ackerson and what exactly he had to do, and what he planned to do, to allow such a large number of S-III's to be chosen. It worried him more than you'd think.

"Fhajad I'll be busy handling the paperwork required by Section Zero and Section-III, considering I'm the only ONI attache to the Program. Keep an eye on Ackerson will you?" Desmond asked. Fhajad immediately nodded his head, eye becoming suspicious as he glanced at the Colonel.

Fhajad had become quite the successful Assassin apprentice, even if he didn't know it. One of Fhajad's best traits were his eyes, that weren't augmented sadly. He could watch someone like a hawk, analysing every single one of the person's movements and understanding a person's attention.

Desmond nodded to Fhajad and patted Kurt on the head, to which the SPARTAN mock growled. Desmond laughed it off, even if Kurt now reached his neck, and turned towards his office on Onyx.

Stretching, Desmond proceed to do his job. While Archer, Kestrel and the Clones finish off the remnants of the URF, Ezio and Desmond were now charged with finding out as much about ONI and their sudden interest with DI and Forerunner technology ever since _Lighter Than Some_ began sharing information.

Sighing, Desmond wished he could use his hidden blades again. Wouldn't mind cutting up some of the nasty members of ONI, present company included.

 **Bad news. I've been writing all the past chapters on my phone, sadly it broke and now I have a really laggy old dinosaur of a phone so updates might become less frequent.**


	20. Chapter 20

"We're moving in, all eyes up and prepare for combat!" Forge ordered in the passenger seat of a warthog. There were fifteen other warthogs alongside his, and their goal was the long stretch of enemy AA that prevented reinforcements.

"Wait for the SPARTANs to give us the go ahead," Forge said as he stared at he billowing winds. Before long large plumes of smoke rose into the air, signalling the supersoldiers success in eliminating the first set of watchtowers. "Alright punch it!"

The marine behind his warthog answered in kind and the warthog doubled its speed as it rocketed through the ice pack. Forge held on tightly as they bounded past the remnants and wreckage of dead UNSC soldiers.

In the distance the purple tinted buildings of Covenant design appeared and Forge grinned. "Gunners on the forward mount, we're carving a way through their ranks, bloody or smeared it's your choice."

"Oorah!" They chorused in unison. The warthogs revved even faster and the first shots of plasma had already begun to grace the windshield. The driver banked as an explosion went off next to him, catching an unlikely group as their vehicle exploded.

Forge shielded himself from the blast and pulled out his assault rifle. The Covenant base they were assaulting was smoking, a burning building here and there with their guard towers fallen over to the side.

Forge grinned when he saw that and felt his heart pump faster as the warthogs opened fire into the beleaguered Covenant lines. Armor-piercing rounds cut through Elite shielding and mowed down lawns of Grunts. "Punch it marine!" Forge ordered.

His warthog went even faster and before long it had rammed itself into an Elite that was trying to blow out the vehicle's wheels. I swerved to the right, the gunner never letting up on his fire as Forge hopped out.

A Jackal squawked in fright as Forge appeared in front of it and the Sergeant slammed the butt of his shotgun into his beak, breaking the bone, before pumping a round into its chest.

He twisted around and ducked behind the LRV as a steady stream of green plasma soared overhead. "Hunter!" Forge shouted.

As practised two warthogs sped up towards the bond pair as they sauntered into the killzone. The large aliens made a reverberating roar as the warthogs slammed into them as full force, the gunners letting loose a hail of bullets into its head. The armor dented and cracked, spraying orange blood and bit over the windshield. The creatures dropped backwards, dead, but he warthogs paid the price as a trio of Grunts threw plasma grenades at the vehicle.

It attached themselves to the vehicle and one unlucky marine, who screamed as he tried to pull it off. The grenades exploded, a bright blue flash that engulfed the entirety of the vehicle and when it cleared nothing was left but burning husks.

Forge gritted his teeth and ordered the warthogs to move in. "We cannot lose momentum," Forge ordered, "Keep moving and do not stop!"

The warthogs roared to life and moved into the enemy lines. Disorientating the Covenant forces as they waved in and out of enemy fire. Forge wasn't idle either and was leading the ground compliments as they arrive onto the scene. "Sappers find those AA guns and blow them out of the sky, everyone else, we're clearing that base!"

The marines all nodded their affirmatives and started moving in a staggered line. They didn't have any places to take cover in on the snow so their only way to not get gunned down was their speed and constant movement.

Forge aimed his shotgun and gutted an Elite's shields, the DI's particle weapon more than effective against the enemy armor underneath. He twisted around a Jackal trying to cut him with a pink crystal and wrung his shotgun around its neck. He pivoted and felt a satisfying crunch against his arms as he let the body fall.

He twisted and saw a full squad of marines engaging another Hunter, with its bond-brother lying behind it, dead. The Hunter roared and smacked a marine across his head with its shield and crushed another beneath its foot. The surviving marines all fired a continuous barrage at the Hunter but it took all of it surprisingly well and cut down the survivors with its plasma cannon. The powerful plasma slammed against their beskar armor, sending a rippling shockwave that the metal could not absorb and causing several internal injuries that killed the marines instantly.

The Hunter bulldozed its way through more marines before a lucky shot managed to cut straight through into the worms beneath. The Hunter staggered, making a pained moan, before collapsing against its own weight.

Forge twisted away from the sight, ignoring the several marines who were on the ground in pain. Forge quickly gathered the remnants of a surviving platoon, who were holding ground next to the wreckage of a warthog, and led them towards an blown out section of the Covenant base.

The men followed his lead without question, moving into the cold and unwelcoming purple interior of a Covenant base. Forge dropped to a knee inside, his shotgun aiming down the left side of the corridor with the others fanning out behind him. He watched it, waiting for anything to show itself, then glanced back outside into the firefight.

Marines were running by the hole, holding it from Covenant forces hoping to stop Forge's small insertion team, and he could see several marines getting knocked down by snipers on the upper levels.

"Alright let's go, the last of the AA should be on the upper levels," He ordered and led the me through. They bounded down the corridor silently, only their boots clanking being any noise whatsoever.

Forge wished the SPARTANs were with him but while the marines were taking out this base, the SPARTANs were taking out the remaining AA's in the stretch of this lane. The plan was to open this avenue up for reinforcements and then after the Air Force bombs out the remaining bases, the ground infantry would march to the temple unimpeded.

The marines walked in an intersection of hallways, their RARs still hot and waiting for enemy forces to make themselves known. Forge glanced at the different hallways and glanced at a blue gravity lift at one end of the pathways. "There, we'll get up through there."

The Corporal, who had taken over after their Lieutenant died, nodded his head and the marines moved into the hallway. Forge glanced around the room hoping to find a control panel and walked curiously to a set of runes positioned on the wall. He hovered his fingers over them and wondered what they meant.

That is until one of the me screamed as he was skewered by a energy sword. Forge hissed as he turned to see tree SpecOps Elites cutting through his men. The leading Elite wearing bright blue armor swung its Energy Sword in a wide arc, beheading two marines in one strike.

Forge aimed at that one and fired. The shotgun pellets slammed into its shields, causing it to stagger, and its companions turned to Forge in anger. The marines opened fire at them and they managed to cut one down. The other Elite roared and charged the marines, slamming a powerful shoulder into their chest armors.

A group of marines stumbled backwards and due to the close quarters of the room, some of them had slammed into the walls with pained groans. The Elite roared and drove its sword into a marine, dragging him up by the tip and tossing the body at his fellows.

Forge leapt and rolled, dodging the body, and sprang up right in front of the Elites knees. He grimaced and fired, blowing out the cartilage and bone at the short distance with the shotgun. The Elite roared and limped away but Forge didn't let up and fired two more time.

The shield blocked the first shot but the aror only barely kept the alien alive after it failed and vented hydrogen into the air. But the leader Elite cut through Forge's weapon and backhanded him into the wall.

Forge glanced up at the Elite as it rushed to try and skewer him with the Energy Sword but Forge slammed his elbow into the runes and activated the grav lift. The Elite roared as it was pulled up by the lift, arms flailing in the air. Forge swiped a RAR off the ground and hopped onto the grav lift field, aiming his weapon at the Elite and firing.

The shields failed and he couldn't do anything against the next barrage of bullets that gutted it. Forge turned his head downwards to see the last of the marines, small group of four, kill the last injured Elite and follow Forge up the grav lift.

The marine was initially dismayed with the losses he suffered and hoped the main force fared better. He felt gravity return to him and he made an ugly duck-and-roll on top of the Covenant base. He raised his RAR and spotted several Jackals and Grunts aiming their weapons down range. He quickly put an end to that by firing a burst into their ranks. A trio of Grunts were caught unaware and fell to the deadly barrage. A Jackal turned around with its shield up but Forge slammed against it, cracking the shield, and then slammed his boot into the alien's chest. It caved and dropped to the ground where he fired a round into its head.

He was knocked off his feet however when another Jackal rushed him and brought him onto the ground. The Jackal was on top of him, trying to claw at his ace but Forge was able to shield himself with his armored forearms. It shrieked in its bird-like language and was completely surprised when the group of marines that had followed Forge up grabbed it by the neck and tossed it to the deck.

It tried to crawl away but was rewarded with a stream of armor-piercing rounds. Another Elite appeared, pulling out its sword and slashing at his marines. They ducked instinctively but one wasn't fast enough and broke his neck as the blade impacted the helmet. The Beskar held true to the alien sword but the marines spine sadly did not and he fell to the ground, lifeless.

Fore stood up and was horrified to see one of his marines bodily lofted into the air before the Elite plunged a sword into his gut, twisting it through the Beskar armor as he carved a hole big enough for its blade. The marine yelled, a gurgling sound mixed with blood and saliva as the normally fast death was turned agonizingly slow. Blood spilled out, a murderous flow as the cauterizing effect was slowed by the obstacle of the beskar armor and the marine died long before the otherworldly blade had pierced all the way through.

"Dan!" A marine yelled, his hands cradling a M4-1 CAR. He opened fire at the Elite, he ripped the dead body from its blades and tossed it like a dagger towards the marine. It thunked off the Beskar armor but did its force was enough to cause the marine to stagger. The Elite capitalized the opportunity and gripped the marine by his head, twisting it with its momentum.

Forge balked as his four man squad dropped to two and he rushed the Elite without a second thought. He was able to wrap himself around the Elites waist, locking his fingers on the other side and leaned on his own weight to topple the creature over.

It was heavier, true, but it's weren't designed to bend forward and they were undoubtedly strong. The Elite resisted the pull and instead body slammed Forge onto the ground but throwing his Energy Sword in the process. The Elite was about to punch Forge into submission but a marine had jumped onto its back, wrestling for a foothold as he gripped the alien's mandibles and pulled.

It must have been painful, Forge thought, as he watched the Elite pull of him and focus squarely on the marine on his back who was now pulling the mandibles more violently. There was a crack sound and the Elite roared something more unintelligible than normal. With the mandible now cracked and bent the Elite pulled the marine off him and tossed him away.

seeing an opportunity Forge pulled out his pistol and fired, straight into the alien's head. It's head snapped back from the force as the shield absorbed one, two, then the third was sent rushing through its head.

It crumpled and fell in a heap. The Sergeant then turned and pulled the trigger on the Grunts who were still cowering about. When the place was clear he turned towards the remaining two marines under his command.

"Sarge, we've spotted the last AA guns," a private said, even as he cradled his fractured shoulder.

"Hand me those explosives," Forge ordered as he pulled the explosives off him. "You and me, come on." The other marine nodded and together they secured the C6 onto the AA guns, Forge taking a step further and sticking it into the weapons plasma chamber. When that was done he took the two marines and retreated back down to the ground.

He detonated the explosives while still heading down the grav lift, satisfied when he heard the twin explosions that decimated the towers top half. He hit the ground softly and was surprised to see a squad of marines waiting for him. "Sergeant, Covenant forces have launched a counter-attack while you were dealing with the AA guns," the squad leader said, "The warthogs have been destroyed and the remaining marines are inside holding off the Covenant assault."

"What?!" Forge said in surprise, "How most of them should have been killed from the explosions and initial assault."

The squad leader glanced at his men warily before shaking his head, "The SPARTANs radioed in and informed us that after they blew up the AA guns on the other bases all Covenant forces abandoned them and headed straight for here."

"Damn it, they saw us through," Forge muttered. "Take me to the men." The squad leader nodded and pushed through his marines to lead Forge to where he had initially entered the base from.

There Forge was dismayed to see a whole platoon of marines hunkered down around the hole, twice as many bodies surrounding them, and firing blindly outside as Covenant plasma peppered their lines. The base rocked, causing Forge to stumble, and he looked up in time to see a second hole had been formed further down the line.

"Get men on that point!" A soldier yelled, Forge wasn't sure on his rank. Instead of marines, a squad of Army soldiers took position at the breach and took down a squad of Jackals that had tried to rush the point.

"Sergeant, we cannot hold this position. We have too many wounded," the marine informed.

Forge gritted his teeth and glanced out at the frozen arctic. "We can't give it up either, once we start falling back, the Covenant owns the base and all we'll be is a mess that needs to be cleaned up," Forge said grimly.

"What do you mean?" The marine asked uncertainly.

Forge looked at him, his face etched in seriousness, "I mean we hold this position to the last man or everyone behind us dies."

The marines within ear shot of Forge all glanced at each other, hesitation in their eyes. "Godspeed men," Forge muttered, never actually thinking he'd ever say those words that were so often used by commanding officers, "We'll need it."

A plasma grenade landed into the hold and Forge grabbed a marine that was next to it and tossed him back into the hallway. The grenade exploded and Forge yelled he felt himself get lifted off the ground. His back had bruised and splintered from the force of the explosion and his thigh armor had been shake off, allowing the plasma scorch the skin underneath.

He gripped his thigh, pain flaring from the wound as he kicked back deeper into the hallway. An Elite barged into the hole, firing plasma into a marine as it stomped onto his chest. Forge gritted his teeth and ended the Elite before it could cause any more damage.

The remaining soldiers who weren't dead or dying forced themselves back up onto their feet and scooped up whatever weapon they could find. Forge noticed one Army soldier grabbing the plasma rifle of the dead Elite and rushing back out to kill the aliens.

 _Sergeant_ , Forge frowned when he heard the SPARTAN fireteam leader's voice in his ear.

"You got me," Forge replied, failing to keep the strain out of his voice.

 _We've completed all objectives and are returning to provide assistance._ Forge felt some hope swell in him but only if his marines could hold out long enough.

"Everybody heard that!" Forge yelled, his voice just barely carrying over the heat of battle, "Shoot everything you see and wait or the cavalry to arrive!"

- **Ezio** -

Director of Reach ONIHQ Security Personnel Ezio Auditore, or just commonly called Director, was sighing as he crossed his arms over his desk. The steel grey desk that was in his office was a stark contrast over his normal office, which was a guardhouse.

Ezio wasn't sure how he felt with the new promotion. Parangosky was sure to have read the report both Musa and Serin had submitted about the impromptu investigation so there was no doubt she was suspicious about him. Well, he wouldn't dwell on it for the sake of his own health, he had paperwork to do. Lots, and _lots_ of horrendous paperwork to do.

He shook his head and brought up his latest set of work, an acquisition order for more PCVs to be handed out to the new personnel that were transferred over from New Mombasa. For some reason a lot of the New Mombasa staff had been taken out and brought into the Reach HQ, his promotion also pending on that list. If Ezio was not mistaken the previous Director of Security was transferred to the ONIMHQ (ONI Mobile HQ).

It was strange to have so many things going on in ONI, especially with Security Staff rather than Section-III cells or better yet Section Zero. Either way Desmond kept an eye on Section Zero, which was basically just Internal Affairs, and Volpe kept an eye on Section-III. It was Ezio's job to stay in the non-ONI affiliated personnel. There were lots in the grapevine, like Parangosky reaching her years and wanting to make a few last minute changes before she retired, or something else that was equally insane.

The Assassin shrugged and signed off on the order. He sighed and stared at his computer blankly, hoping to will away all the digital paperwork still lying on his desktop. But then his message system lit up, a red marked package with the tag-line 'Kestrel' on it. Ezio frowned, placed the chip that Vahlen had given him, and opened the file.

It was a small file, only displaying a simple text. It read, in big blocky letters ' **GET DOWN** '. Ezio widened his eyes and didn't even stop to think about his actions before he dropped underneath his desk, right as an explosion rocked the building. He gritted his teeth as the floor shook and then his office lit up in flames.

An explosions, rippling through the papers and other useless knickknacks, burned through his office, The sprinkler system activated but it could quite kill all of the flames. Ezio pulled himself up to his feet and was shocked to see most of his office wrecked, not by fire but by shrapnel. Whoever had placed the bomb in his office, he had done it with the objective to kill Ezio in the most assured way possible.

Another explosion rocked the building and the Assassin clicked a button on his desk. Immediately an automated voice began broadcasting.

'Alert: We are currently under attack! All non-essential personnel please proceed to your designated safe zones! All Security Personnel please head towards...Level 12, 5, and 3 to combat the fires and possible enemy incursion.' Ezio grimaced and fastened his blades onto his forearms and pulled a pistol from a locker.

He rushed out of his office, appalled to see that the fire had already spread to his floor. There were dead Security Personnel and a group of ONI analysts on the ground. "Give me a SITREP," Ezio ordered as he moved through the throng of dead bodies.

"Sir, we have no idea what happened. Explosions just went off all over the building. The marine guards have already taken off towards the lower levels and key ONI personnel are being transported to safe zones as we speak," A Security Officer, a woman named Adala, reported.

Ezio frowned and glanced at the destruction and chaos. Adala herself was holding onto her shoulder and she was armed with a pistol. A loose gaggle of surviving Officers were behind her but they too look like they could have been better. "What do you think they wished to achieve from this?" Ezio asked out loud as he cupped his chin.

"It's probably the Innie, Sir! Their just trying to make an example of us," Adala said, her mouth set into a nasty snarl. But is it really that simple? What would be the strategic value of such an operation, it only to anger your enemy even more. ONIHQ had civilian operatives as well, such as scientists, engineers and sanitary faculties. The Innies had never made a fuss about civilian casualties but there must be some gain in the action, beyond fear of course, considering the aliens already spread enough of that.

"Levels 12, 5 and 3, those are the levels furthest from the center and has the highest flow of traffic. What level is there that is important between 12 and 3?" Ezio thought aloud.

"Sir," An officer spoke up, "But isn't the mainframe located in level 8?" Ezio widened his eyes and nodded his head, hands coiled into a fist.

"Their looking to gain information!" Ezio said, his eyes twinkling, "Adala radio the marines and tell them to head towards level 8. Everyone else follow me, I'll call in for more reinforcements once we're down there!" Ezio ordered. Everyone glanced at each other in surprise but nonetheless followed his orders.

They jumped into the elevator and rode it down towards the 8th level. Ezio was wondering what happened, something like this never happened in the original timeline, or as Tom had told him. Reach was the safest place in UNSC territory and the closest the insurrectionists had gotten was that bombing incident that had led to Harvest.

HIs thoughts were stowed away when the elevator dinged at their floor and it opened to reveal a surprise trio of soldiers dressed in old, out-dated duty uniforms, with a mix of old and modern weapons. Ezio quickly rushed them, his right hidden blade ejecting itself and burying deep into the gut of an Innie. Another was shot in the head by his men while the last turned tail and ran deeper into the base. The Italian wouldn't have that and unloaded three clips into his back before reloading.

The Security Personnel formed up around him and Ezio made sure to call for backup before following down the dead Innies path. He twisted down the corridor, ignoring the dead ONI analysts sporting extra breathing holes as he did. The entire length was cluttered with broken debris and fire.

There was a rustling sound and an Innie appeared, clipping a newly acquired weapon onto his belt as he did. Ezio frowned and fired into his knee, shattering the bone and immobilizing the man. "You two watch over him, everyone else breach the next room," Ezio ordered.

The two men nodded and grabbed the Innie by the shoulders before dragging him away. Ezio hugged the wall alongside the remaining Personnel and together they breached a locked door at the end of the hallway. Several computer hardwares were spread out in the room, each containing sensitive information for ONI, of course most of it were piecemeal and were merely placeholders for the actual information on ONIMHQ and the several ONI cells. They still had enough information to be particularly dangerous in the wrong hands.

He spotted a group of Innies at the computer, who swung to him in surprise. Ezio frowned and opened fire. The first Innie fell in a barrage of fire while another dove behind cover. He followed his example and hugged a nearby wall for cover just as another Innie fired a volley and cut down two Security Personnel.

Ezio snarled and slammed an elbow into an Innie that tried to flank him. The Assassin skillfully brought his arm around the neck and gripped the chin, kicking the knee and forcing him onto the ground. Before soon the Innie was on the ground with a head bent at an awkward angle.

"Drop you weapons!" Ezio ordered, "Nobody else has to die!" Ezio ducked his head over the corner and frowned at what he saw. A young Innie, eyes wild and fearful as he stared at the door. He was sweating, his fingers shaking and he was gripping a haphazardly designed computer. In fact he wasn't the only young one, staring at the dead bodies, only two out of five of the Innies were past the age of thirty, Thinking about the defence, the surprised Innie guards and the random yet partially planned explosions.

This wasn't planned. This was desperate.

"Drop your weapon!" Ezio ordered as he pointed his weapon at the kid. He turned to him, eyes blazing and surprising Ezio, he pointed at the computer's hardware and fired. He managed to take out four before Ezio fired into his back, causing him to spin from the impact, and falling over dead.

The Assassin frowned as he brought his weapon down. It was true that the information in the mainframe was important, the information in the system was backed up and even the destruction of the equipment would barely even affect ONI effectiveness. The kid had just performed a completely unnecessary act that resulted in his death.

Archer and Kestrel must have been pushing hard it they would resort to such movements.

Ezio wasn't sure if that was good or bad.


	21. Chapter 21

When the reinforcements arrive, Forge's men had been dwindled down to just a few squads, just barely making a company. The Captain that was leading the relief force had expressed sympathy to Forge, who had been mourning the lost of his men when he had arrived. The SPARTANs were policing the dead alongside the other marines, dragging bodies out of the Covenant base and arranging them into neat rows in front.

"The air-strike is coming down soon, once it hits everyone will be gearing up for another assault," The Captain informed him as he watched the Sergeant look over the remains of his men, "I can understand if you do not wish to go, however-"

"I'll go," Forge interrupted, "The Corp isn't paying me to be idle. I'm a marine and I won't be knocked down because of something like this." Forge said, his conviction was strong but his voice wavered. It had been a close call, closer than he would have liked. The marines trapped inside the base were caught in a war unlike any other. Bodies just piling up at the breaches, injured and wounded forced to pick up guns and drag themselves out just to add another body to keep the Covenant at bay.

Forge's slightly charred thigh was mild in comparison to some of the injuries the others had sustained. "The Caspers will fly over in a few moments," The Captain informed, "make peace with the fallen and get ready. You're saddled with Bravo Company."

Forge nodded his head and kept looking at the various dead men in front of him. They were good men, deserving the honor and distinction of serving with the UNSC Marine Corp. Forge mulled over something he had heard once, back when he was an Officer. The greatest heroes, are often those that don't come back. These men were heroes in his book, men and women who should be held in the highest regard.

He sucked in a breath and committed the sight to memory. The piles of men draped with a white blanket, and resolved to do better in the future. That was his duty as a Sergeant of the UNSC Marines. He fought and he brought men back from war, even if they were few. "Alright, everybody saddle up!" He yelled. The tired marines and army soldiers glanced at him but none questioned his orders. Forge had been in the frontlines, he had fought with them, tooth and nail, he deserved to have every order followed.

The Sergeant moved quickly towards a pelican, followed a squad of marines, and breathed in deeply. The men all lined up in the cargo bay and waited as the gangplank rose and the transport lifted off the ground.

They were heading towards the temple, the Air Force had already bombed out the bases in their way and the Covenant forces that could have put up a fight had all perished in the singular battle that took place not mere moments ago. Even if Forge sustained heavy casualties, the Covenant suffered worst and at the pelican's back viewscreen, he could see the SPARTANs rallying the survivors onto the remains of their warthogs and driving off.

They still had a war to win afterall.

- **Kestrel** -

Ezio had been less than pleased with the timing of the Splinter Cell's warning, Kestrel admitted that he could have done it better. It was, however, something out of his control. He had only stumbled onto the information by accident while interrogating a soldier in a URF base in the inner ring of the Outer Colonies.

At that distance the message had taken days, months even, to reach the ONIHQ on Reach. He had done the best he could and Ezio had finally relented after a week. However the captured URF soldiers were starting to grow hysterical and showed signs of desperation. In Kestrel's viewpoint that was a good thing, but the Splinter Cell understood the Assassin's worry. The URF were wolves, and they've just been backed to a corner.

Their leadership needed to die, their supply zones crushed. Only then would they present less of a threat. Of course that was what Archer and Kestrel had originally set out to do, just now they had more reason to go even further. The Clones as well, had started planning with the Splinter Cell's more and more.

It was decided that while they dealt with the heads of the URF, the Clones will destroy their fleet, cripple their supply lines and cause as much destruction as possible, something that the Splinter Cell's were never trained to do. It was a perfect combination. Stealth and Destruction.

Even now he knew where to go, knew how to fight their enemy. And Kestrel had a new target, General Tressler, the head of the URF intelligence division. Kestrel steadied his breath and prepared to go to war, prepared to finish his duty. After Tressler was gone, there would only be one last General, and if the Clones did their job, that one last General wouldn't be enough to keep the URF together. They would be destroyed with this, killing the remaining General would only hasten the process but the Wolf that the URF had been was now wounded.

Kestrel glanced at his partner who was crouched above the few cities on Victoria. The same planet where they had killed General Howard Graves. It was funny, really it was. Tressler had been on Eridanus-II during the Covenant attack, the one where Booker and Jack had defended on the ground.

Tressler would have been dead if DI had abandoned the planet to the Covenant, but Kestrel knew his leader, Tom, wouldn't allow that. A commendable thing, really, it is, but it should still be noted. However, due to that, Tressler had been able to manage the Eridanus Rebels and brought them into Victoria, before the Covenant could cause any more damage to them than necessary.

It was funny, you would think with an alien race that was at war with your people, you would stop behaving like an idiot and stop rebelling. But Kestrel guessed it was too much to ask for. They were after all fighting for their own freedom, to them, the UNSC could just get destroyed by the aliens and they would live.

Of course, this single-mindedness had led to them relying on each other more and more often. Thus, Victoria was snow storming with Insurrectionists, their soldiers and their people nearly engulfing this singular continent on the planet. It wasn't even funny with the intensity of their people.

"This...is not going to be easy," Archer muttered. Kestrel nodded and the two Splinter Cells did not exchange any more words before heading down towards the city. The landed swiftly, silently, their specifically made boots not betraying their intentions as they crab-walked towards the Insurrectionist lines.

The next twenty-minutes moved like such a blur, it was impossible to recount. The two Splinter Cells reached the very boundary of the city, where two rebels were talking to each other as civilians marched by, trying to live their days in normality. That ended quickly when ARcher shot out a gas tanker that was driving down the road, causing an explosion and fire that engulfed a nearby Cafe. The rebels rushed towards the sight, trying to quell the fire, and the Splinter Cells took off.

They pushed off the wall of a building, hands reaching forward simultaneously to grab onto the ledge. Kestrel was first and he pulled himself up onto the roof, a hand out to help Archer. The former Third-Echelon agent accepted it gratefully, then they were running across the buildings. Their movements weren't as refined and elegant as an Assassin, but for former government agents they were still impressive.

Kestrel hopped off a nearby building and landed roughly into a nearby rooftop. The Splinter Cell thanks high industrialisation and compact city design that allowed the building to be built so close together.

The Splinter Cells target, the large shiny building at the center of the town, was where they were aiming. It was the place where most of Victoria's remaining parliament was situated in, and the place where General Tressler was currently explaining the state of the URF towards the affiliated planet representatives.

Running through the city wasn't difficult. People paid little attention to them with the sudden explosion and fire. It was controlled however and the tanker had been detonated in a place where little civilian casualties would be sustained. A regrettable but not noteworthy accident that wouldn't catch the attention of anyone too high up.

A perfect distraction, one that had everyone watching the smoke rising into the air and not on the black garbed spies moving through their homes. There were however a few times that Kestrel had to kill a police officer or two who were being too snoopy. He ended them quickly, synchronized shots with Archer that eliminated a dozen or so police officers before they could even understand what was going on.

Kestrel had realised this long ago, but he and Archer were a deadly pair. It was perhaps thirty minutes later that both Archer and Kestrel had reached the Town Hall, and Kestrel was frowning at the multitude of guards that surrounded its exterior. He glanced at the passing cars and rolled forward, stalking around the benches and decorations that dotted the outside of the parliament building.

Finally he decided it was time to activate a gift that Vahlen and Freeman had given him and he activated his stealth system. It was much like the ones the Covenant used but it could last far longer and used up less energy. It didn't matter, with their skills the invisibility was not needed but it was useful such as in situations like this.

Both of them crossed the road, ignoring the guards that stood in their way, and strode in towards the garage. Invisibility or not, both Kestrel and Archer knew better than to enter from the front door, which in most cases would be suicide.

Archer glanced around the garage as they entered and split off from Kestrel, confusing the russian but the american began placing small explosives onto the vehicles. "Once we deal with the General, I'll blow up the lower floors and create a distraction for us to escape."

"Distractions aren't always explosions, you know?" Kestrel said drily. Archer just chuckled and the two of them went up the fastest way they knew how. The maintenance shaft. It was amazing just how many of these things there were, much better than air vents which might give way underneath a person's weight or just be too small.

They climbed, avoiding as much confrontation as possible. There was a working inside the tunnel but Kestrel silenced him with a kick to the back of his knee and an application of pressure on his neck. The man went out like a lightbulb and would probably not wake up any time soon.

Eventually, both Archer and Kestrel reached the thirtieth floor of the building where the conference was being held. Unfortunately, the maintenance shaft didn't bring them anywhere near the conference room so both the two Splinter Cells would have to deal with the secretaries, interns and -best of all- guards in their way.

Kestrel dropped down into the maintenance room that the shaft was attached to and checked the hallways. It was swamped with people, a fact that made the russian's move go sour. There was also two armed guards down the hallway, making a regular patrol through the area. Kestrel frowned and gestured to Archer to activate his cloaking unit.

The American nodded and they left the room. They had to be careful, since with the close quarters of the corridors and the slight shimmering effect of the cloaking device, they couldn't really stay hidden well if a guard were to turn a corner and bump into them. They stayed close to each other, back to back, minimizing the shimmering effect down the hall while making their way to the conference room.

But to Kestrel's dismay a guard had appeared from the side, at an intersection in front of the two double oak doors that led to the conference room. Kestrel ducked into a nearby office room while Archer jumped up onto the ceiling, gripping onto a railing that held two ceiling lights together. The guard paused, staring at where both the agents had been with a confused expression.

Both of them made silent curses, unsure with how to handle the situation. They could kill him but he might warn the others, and to add to that, there was a person inside the office Kestrel was in doing paperwork. Surely he would notice it if someone were to be knocked and dragged away by an invisible force.

The guard moved towards the area more cautiously now, and had his gun up. He was suspicious, and that was bad, that meant he would be actively search what he _knew_ he saw rather than dismissing what he thought he saw. Archer was shaking his head, the outline of his partner in the ceiling appearing on Kestrels Goggles.

Finally they acted, Archer grabbed the man between his ankles and lifted him up by his foot. The intern inside the office stared in shock as a guard was seemingly being levitated in the air, apparently choking like he was in Darth Vader's forge grip. Kestrel silenced him though before he could say anything and punched him square in the jaw, knocking him out.

Sometimes the crude way was the best way, Kestrel thought. With the both of them knocked Archer quickly stashed the guard into the office and Kestrel closed the door. Hopefully no one would find them before they were done with their mission.

Kestrel moved towards the double doors but instead of entering the front door, which again was a bad thing, both he and Archer entered through the ceiling, which was hollow and again, more comfier than a vent though admittedly not as sturdy.

Archer stayed back watching the hallway, just in case somebody caught the bodies, and Kestrel ventured towards the conference room. He carefully lifted one of the tiles and stared into the room, noting the half dozen heads sitting on a large oval table and one man standing. The man who was standing was not Kestrel's target, but rather it was the only man wearing a military-esque uniform at the table.

He was watching the front like a hawk, a diligence to be expected as the person was speaking about the Covenant. It was about countermeasures they would take should the Covenant end up in URF territory, which to them, consisted of the whole outer colonies. If it was up to Kestrel, he would have rounded up all loyal UNSC denizens and retreat to the Core Worlds, consolidating the forces and letting the Covenant burn the Innies, then march forward and do the bloody dirt fight all over again. It may be extreme, and not really smart, but it would sure clean up a whole lot of this mess.

Kestrel prepared a gas grenade from his pocket, prepared to drop it into the room and knock everyone out, giving him clear change to shoot General Tressler and all the others without raising an alarm. But that was not meant to be.

 _Shit Kestrel!_ Archer hissed into his COMM channel. The russian glanced at his partner in surprise only to hear the sound of two wooden doors being slammed open. Kestrel glanced down and saw a guard, hands raised forward and gesturing to the corridor, as he told the people seated of the emergency. _The office was conjoined to another one!_ Archer explained.

What terrible luck! Kestrel hissed into his head. He should have checked but they were in a hurry, any longer had they spent in the room the chances of getting caught before killing Tressler increased. "Detonate the bombs," Kestrel ordered.

Archer nodded his head and pulled out the detonator. He hesitated, before finally pressing down on the button. The building shook, both Kestrel and Archer being forced to rise slightly from their crouches and the explosions.

"I thought you said they were explosions meant for a distraction!" Kestrel hissed. With the amount of shakin that was going on, he was daring enough to say that Archer had placed a nuclear device onto those cars.

Archer merely shrugged, "It was something new that Freeman gave me! How was I supposed to know!" He rebuked.

" _Freeman_ gave it to you! That should have been your only warning!" Kestrel hissed. He ignored his companion and stared down at the conference room. The people inside were grabbing onto anything to steady themselves but General Tressler was only on his feet, moving through the explosions surprisingly well as he made his way towards the guard.

"Ready the men!" He ordered, "We're under attack! It must be those DI Operatives! Activate the drones!" Kestrel frowned at that.

 _Drones?_ He wondered but he wasn't going to give said drones time to attack. Kestrel gave up with stealth and pulled open the tile, exposing himself briefly to the people below, and fired at the General. He balked at the Splinter Cell but couldn't react in time as three bullets lodged themselves into his chest. He stumbled backwards, unable to stand any longer and fell backwards.

Archer made a sound behind him and Kestrel turned to see someone toss a grenade onto the wall. But it wasn't a UNSC Frag Grenade, it was a Covenant plasma grenade. Archer sucked in a surprised breath, having never encountered the grenade before but hearing about it from Tom.

Kestrel could practically see the '!' that appeared over Archer's head before he instinctively rolled backwards away from it. Too late though, it exploded, spraying plasma all over the area and causing the ceiling to collapse. Archer fell towards the ground in surprise and Kestrel only managed to keep himself steady due t the fact that he dropped down to the ground before the explosion.

He tucked his chest in and landed in an ugly role, which was better than what Archer could say as he landed painfully onto his back. The guard that had originally entered the room turned towards Archer with an angry snarl and was poised to kill the operative if it weren't for Kestrel snapping his gun arm in time to kill him. The man spun on his foot and crashed to the ground due to the shot and the other people in the room raised their voices at Kestrel.

The agent frowned and dropped a mine at their huddled forms. They screeched but was silence when he detonated it, killing them. They would have been priority targets anyways, so might as well end them before they could be a bother.

Archer was getting up to his feet, but the guards who were on the level came rushing towards the conference room. The American quickly rushed back into the room, holstering his pistol and pulling out his M4-1 CAR. Kestrel did the same and tossed some proximity mines to his counterpart.

He accepted it graciously and threw some down strategically down the corridor. The guards that ran forward first were obliterated by the explosions, their bodies sent flailing backwards as they crashed into the walls and the ground. The soldiers behind stopped and instead of continuing forward, instead move back and took cover in the rooms that dotted the hallway.

Gunfire erupted, both Archer and Kestrel exchanging weapons fire. Kestrel opened fire with his rifle, scoring five kills since their brief firefight started but Archer had sprained his wrist from his fall and his aim became impaired due to the injury.

"We have to get out of here!" Archer hissed, "There's no way we can last!" It was true, with the tight boxed in corridor and the only one way in, both of Kestrel's and Archer's PCVs wouldn't last against the onslaught of fire and they couldn't use their advantage of stealth either.

Kestrel nodded and tossed a Frag grenade into the mix. The Innies ducked into the rooms, and both Archer and Kestrel stormed out, firing to keep them inside, and split up at the intersection. Archer went left and Kestrel went right.

The guards were forced to split up as well to catch them and both of the Splinter Cells dropped down proximity mines to stall their movements. Then, when they were sure that they had disappeared from sight -evident from the screams of pain as explosions shook the floor again- Kestrel activated his stealth unit.

He shimmered out of view and then melded to the walls as a group of guards tumbled down the hallway in a vain attempt to seal off his exit. Kestrel ignored them and quickly made his way towards the maintenance shaft but he was slightly confused when he could not see Archer anywhere.

The man appeared a moment later, but he was clutching his chest. _A grenade went off nearby, my PCV staved off most of the shrapnel but it still did damage_. Archer explained. Kestrel nodded his head and placed Archer's arm around his shoulder and led him to the shaft.

The guards were screaming behind them, trying to find out where they had disappeared to. Both the Splinter Cells grabbed onto the ladder and began their descent back down. The garage would most probably be gone now, buried under rubble and dust, so they would have to jump off at the third floor, far away from the fire and explosions.

Kestrel stopped however when he heard a low hum and glanced underneath him to see...a ball flying up and making it way towards them. It had a blue beam appearing out of its body and Kestrel could guess to what was its purpose.

He quickly pulled out his pistol and fired, but to his frustration the bullet only glanced off the metal that made it. _Beskar_ , he hissed in his head. "Archer we're about to get company!" Kestrel yelled. No sooner than he did, the little drone had passed over the two Operatives and sounded out a screeching alarm.

It burned straight through their ears and no doubt alerted the guards to their presence, to add to to this it flew itself towards Kestrel, a stream of fire spraying out from behind it and turning itself into a projectile. It impacted against Kestrel's PCV, slamming him into the wall. The vest took most of the blow but his back still felt the impact. Kestrel felt his fingers slip and he fell towards the ground.

He reacted instantly and pulled his arms out forward, hoping to grasp one of the steps before he hit his doom. He did, but at his speed and his weight, it had led to his shoulder joint snapping from the force. Gritting his teeth he stared upwards at Archer who was trying to fend off the little drone.

There was screams below him and Kestrel glanced down to see Innies pouring out of the maintenance door to stare up at the two operatives. "Archer!" Kestrel yelled.

"I know!" He screamed back and a full pack of proximity mines were sprinkled down onto the Innies. They screamed but that was the most they could do before they exploded, spraying the walls with red and shaking the ladder. Which wasn't a good sign as it started tipping towards the wall, no doubt its support had been blasted through by the explosions.

Kestrel hugged the ladder tightly as it fell towards the ground and he let go just at the right time to crash into the steel plating without sustaining too much injury. Archer wasn't as lucky.

The man had became pinned in between a loose piece of the ladder and the wall, the piece of metal digging itself into his shoulder. "Argh!" He yelled, his arms flailing as he tried to ease the pressure on his shoulder by pulling himself up higher.

"Archer!" Kestrel said in worry, even as he heard even more angry shouts from above. The drone was still there and it slammed itself into his friends gut, adding more pain to the already excruciating experience.

An Innie stumbled into the maintenance shaft behind Kestrel, and having lost his rifle, the russian pulled out his pistol and slammed the muzzle into the Innie adams apple. He choked and fell backwards, grabbing his throat and another Innie rushed by, this one Kestrel shot in the head.

"Leave me!" Archer shouted as he dangled in the air, "I can't...get down!" As he yelled this the drone slammed itself into Archer's head, knocking him out. The operative's body slumped, and due to his arms relaxing, his body had the full rush of gravity take hold and it snapped back down. A harsh snap sound was heard and Archer woke back up, screaming as his shoulder dislocated.

With his remaining arm he grabbed the small drone and hammered it into the ladder. The Beskar armor protected it so instead Archer slapped a remote mine onto it and tossed it back up the shaft. It staggered as it tried to right itself before exploding as Archer detonated it. It was still intact, but the explosion must have messed up its wiring as it sputtered and dropped to the ground.

"I'm not leaving you!" Kestrel said, even as he gunned down more Innies that rushed by.

"Don't make this difficult!" Archer yelled, "The both of us don't need to die!"

Kestrel just shook his head, even as he nursed his also dislocated shoulder. The russian backed himself up into the corner, right next to the ladder that now had his partner pinned two stories in the sky, and slumped to the ground. "Let's make the end memorable!" Kestrel yelled back, "I don't think we would have a better ending!"

Archer made struggling noises as he tried to pry the ladder off him, "You're insane!"

"Better to be insane and die with a friend, then sane and die alone." The Innies rushed the room, and from above the few guards that they had eluded were raining weapons fire down on them.

Even in his position, Archer was better trained than most. He used the ladder as a shield and snapped his pistol up, his aim was still true and he cut down four Innies that poked their heads over the ledge. Kestrel too continue to fire, three Innies were cut down as they raced inside and another was shot before he could take aim. However one of them managed to land a hit, straight through Kestrel's chest, and the operative violently bit down on his lip as he fired.

The Innie fell but more entered the shaft. Knowing better than to take a firefight over tactics, Kestrel threw what remained of his explosives, Proximity and Remote Mines, Frag grenades, flashbangs and whatever else that he could get his hands on, towards the Innies. They fired on him just as he managed the pull the pin off one of them and they exploded, killing the Innies and Kestrel as well as causing the floor to rumble.

The last thing Kestrel saw was Archer yelled his name before the ladder shook and fell down towards the ground, dislodging the operative and having him fall towards the fire that was racing forward. He landed in front of Kestrel and then, he felt nothing but his ears popping, his eyesight disappearing into white, and a numb stinging sensation.

In his last thoughts, he knew one thing. The Innies were dead, and he had completed what he was brought into the world for.

- **Tom** -

Tom was staring at the void of space, a small smile on his face as he watched Balaho, finally liberated, have its first set of supplies being sent down. He had made sure to be meticulous, only UNSC personnel that had passed a rigorous psyche screening were allowed to transport supplied and train the Unggoy in tactics and warfare.

Balaho had a very small population, surprisingly. It was a little over six million, most of the deaths however came from starvation and sacrifice as the Unggoy knew they had to limit their population in order to maintain stability on Balaho.

He was onboard DIV (Dimensional Intervention Vessel) _Nightmare_ which was holding position above Balaho. The UNSC couldn't spare any troops or ships but Tom sure as hell can. Mantha Ma was busy dealing with the captain and Arc was standing next to him, staring at the planet.

"Progress," Tom muttered, "We're going to beat back the Covenant Arc. Not only that, but we'll free the Unggoy, the Sangheili and all other Covenant races. Their lies can't keep them together forever and we will have peace, not just for the UNSC but for them as well."

"Do you really think that, Sir?" Arc asked. Tom shook his head, hands clasped behind his back.

"I have faith, though I admit I worry. Maybe, I should bring someone inside the UNSC brass, beyond just the Assassin trio. Maybe Captain Anderson from Mass Effect, I wouldn't be surprise if he took over as Admiral of the UNSC Navy, or maybe an actual Admiral Steven Hackett. Lord Hackett." He shook his head, "I'm not gonna lie and say I have a plan anymore. I'm winging it at this point."

Arc cocked his head, watching his Mandalore silently. Even if Arc were to console him, Tom wouldn't know if it was exactly genuine. Tom had practically created him, and Tom himself didn't know just how far their loyal conditioning was. Who was to say that everything Arc had ever said was due to his programmed loyalty?

Those were bad thoughts to drift down to, but when you spend so long thinking, so long pondering everything, you start to worry. "Either way, we'll follow you to the end of the universe, Sir. It's what you brought us here for after all, even if you fail, we'll just work harder to make things right again."

A ghost of a smile appeared on Tom's face. That wasn't a bad reply, Arc was getting insanely good at cheering him up. Just then however warning lights appeared around the area. Tom took a few steps back, eyes opened wide in surprise.

 _Attention all hands, Covenant forces have entered the system. It's one Cruiser, they don't seem to realise that we're here. Prepare for battle, this is not a drill, I repeat, this is not a drill!_ Tom steadied his stance, staring into the sky with wide eyes in surprise.

"Sir?!" Arc yelled, his mandalorian helmet already in place over his head.

"Go help Manth Ma!" Tom ordered, "GO!" He nodded his head and ran off towards the bridge and Tom quickly moved towards the corridor, where the safe rooms were located in. But as the ship shuddered as it moved towards the Covenant cruiser, Tom suddenly crumpled to his knees.

He gripped his head, fingers sinking into his brain as he felt his body react painfully to some unseen stimuli. He felt, like something was being ripped out of his body! Heat flashed across his chest, his legs spasmed and locked painfully and he could barely stand without shaking.

He felt bile rush up his throat and vomited on the spot, taking a few steps back he looked towards the observation deck, to where he knew the window was located in. He could see a reflection of him in the glass, and a ripple move through reflective surface

He moved towards it, hands shaking, and he felt compelled to place his hand against it. He tapped the glass and the pain intensified.

 _Archer._

 _Kestrel_.

The names burned in his mind and Tom understood completely. The both of them had died. Those two people he brought into the world had died.

He grippd his head and rose to his feet, staring at he reflection.

How could they have died, they were the best. They should have been invincible and strong, they should have been able to handle whatever situation they got themselves into but still they had died. How? Why? The pain felt like a fie streaming through him.

They were his men! They put their trust in him. Goddamnit! He gripped his head as his headache throbbed and he felt the headache grow.

"It's unfair to them," his reflection growled. Tom glanced at it and it was on its knees just like him. Tom saw the ripple again, spreading through the window like cascading water, before his features twisted to righteous fury. "All they knew was this war, the war that you brought them into, thy deserved better," the reflection hissed.

"They trusted my judgement, I- they died on Victoria, I gave them the go ahead. I-I should have had the Clones with them...ARGH!" Tom clutched his chest as the pain intensified.

"They don't deserve this," the reflection said hollowly, "they don't deserve this at all!"

 _They took them._

A voice rumbled and Tom was finally able to rise to his feet as unmistakable fury raced through his body.

They were good men.

 _They were men you brought into this war, they were men that did what they had to do to end it all._

They didn't deserve to die, being brought into this world with barely any memories.

 _Monsters_

Monsters the lot of them!

Tom glared at the Covenant ship that he could see. It was firing plasma torpedoes at them and we're trying to shoot the _Nightmare_ down.

I want the pain to stop.

 _Make it stop_.

It hurts. It feels hollow.

 _Make the it all stop!_

And just like that Tom felt his body grow light and then the Covenant cruiser in front flickered. Something he had not seen for years, then completely vanished.

Tom took stumbling steps backwards, and stared at his feet. The metal shook and before long it too shimmered. Everything shimmered and then disappeared into darkness.

The interior of the walls, the windows and the ground, it all disappeared and Tom felt his knees grow heavy. He fell to the ground, eyes rolling back into his head and fell down to the ground.

 _They died and you live._

Goddamn it hurts.

 **I know that Chapter 11 was written poorly and people couldn't understand it, but I changed that so hopefully it's more obvious.**

 **If it still isn't there's three big hints in 11 and here.**

 **The Reflection (Mirror) which in literature is described as a doorway into your heart.**

 **The Italics.**

 **And the mood change.**

 **That's some heavy hints.**


	22. Chapter 22

My head was pounding. My head was beating me to death inside my skull and it seriously hurt! Holy shit! I feel like I just got crushed underneath Thor's hammer.

I grabbed my head in furious pain as I laid down on the floor. What the hell did I do to make such a headache?! It hurts so much that I feel like I'm going to do. That's right, I'm going to fucking die!

Saying that I immediately jumped to my feet and vomited. My eyes snapped open from the intense pain of blood gushing out of my mouth. It was blurry and there was an intense numbing sensation all throughout my body and this feeling of absolute pain. I glanced at the walls, the ground was like tiny ice needles prickling my skin and the grey walls of a UNSC battleship was flickering.

I recognised that flickering. It usually meant I changed something in the universe. But I don't remember what, or rather, I don't really think I did anything. The pain intensified and I pushed myself up to my feet.

It seems that I wasn't on the floor and was actually on a bed in the infirmary. Well, I guess the numbing sensation stopped me from realising it. There were medical personnel all throughout the area but they were frozen stock still and were flickering in and out.

Even if I had seen this before, it had been long time since then and I couldn't help but be freaked out at how they disappeared and reappeared in random intervals. It really felt like I was in a horror show. Ignoring the unreasonable fear I made my way outside, to where I heard various sounds of people talking.

I glanced out the open door to see Manth Ma and Arc staring at each other seriously. They were talking in hush tones and Arc had his helmet off as did Manth Ma. It seemed serious and Tom thought he shouldn't disturb them but he felt it was best if he interjected now rather than later.

"What's happening?" I asked. My voice was hoarse and gurgling, splatters of blood dropping out of my mouth. Both the Mandalorians looked in shock at my state. I would be shocked too; my expensive suit was ruined.

"Sir, what happened!?" Manth Ma asked as she stared at my body. I thumbed back at the medical room to show the freshly vomited blood.

"I puked," I answered honestly with a grimace. "Now it's my turn to be answered, what happened that led to this?"

"A Covenant cruiser appeared and attacked the _Nightmare_. We responded but it suddenly vanished, then this happened," Arc said and he looked me like he was awaiting answers.

I wracked my brain about what he just said. The only thing I remember was looking out the window with my hand on the glass...and I was on my knees too. Why was I on my knees? But I don't remember much else from that. All I remember was that I fell backwards and the space around me was flickering.

"I don't remember anything like that happening," I answered truthfully, "But there is no mistaking that this was done by me. I wonder what happened that made me like? How long was I out?"

I asked. Arc and Mantha Ma glanced at each other, eyebrows pointing downwards before saying something completely outrageous.

"Three months," they said in unison.

...

...

What the fuuuuuuuuuuck? Are you fucking telling me the universe had been updating for three months! And that I was fucking asleep for three months! That doesn't seem fucking feasible.

Well if I deleted a whole cruiser then that wouldn't be so surprising but considering how many lives that the universe now has to completely purge from other people's minds but, _three months_ , and how much longer is there to change it?

I glanced at the both of them and asked seriously, "What about the others? Anything that's happening on their end?"

Arc spoke up, "Most of everyone has reported in. Since everything in the universe is currently frozen, everyone has been able to use the time efficiently. Ezio and Desmond have been able to go into previously secured rooms and uncover information. Ezio has discovered SPARTAN Black Team and future ONI plans and Desmond has been able to discover why so many SPARTAN-III's were developed. To add to this Booker, Jack, Alpha and Bravo has refrained from killing any Covenant soldiers for fear of further straining the universe but have set charges and explosives in key areas so that when everything returns to normal they can eliminate the enemy forces immediately. They have also scouted out areas with high Covenant activity and Volpe was able to finish several paperwork assigned to him by ONI early and has placed invisible listening devices into several places in ONI, including Parangosky office and private room. Dr Freeman and Dr Vahlen have also finished designing the new Warthog HAV (Heavy Attack Vehicle) variant. Dr Freeman has also upgrader his suit to a more advanced PCV. Vahlen is researching psionics with Biotics to see if she can create a hybrid formation for UNSC soldiers...," Arc paused for a second before saying, "Archer and Kestrel however have been silent throughout the period.

I scrunched my face up. A phantom feeling washed over me when I heard the two Operatives names but I didn't know why. Straightening my spine from my bent over position, I glanced at both the Mandalorians with as grave a look as I can manage. "It's not like them to send in a report, I wonder what happened," I frowned. But despite the sinking feeling in my gut I risked a smile, "But I'm sure they're fine, they like being lone wolves after all."

"You've all done well in continuing your duties while I was asleep, even if in some ways this is disadvantageous to us, it is also a golden opportunity to do things that we originally cannot do. Maybe I should see if I have the ability to stop time...but I think the universe wouldn't agree with it," I complimented.

Arc nodded and Manth Ma took the compliments with pride. She was radiating a warriors joy right now. If I remembered right, Mamth Ma was always busy with other things and so wasn't ever around to hear my compliments unlike Arc. He too had a moment in time when he had a silly grin on his face everytime I complimented him.

Yea, they were depending on me. They trust my judgement and everything I do. They look up to me even though they're smarter than me, and faster than me, and stronger than me. Thinking like that, these people did have better potential than me to help this universe than me. Yea, that's right. I had gathered extraordinary people under me but they all follow me, who isn't extraordinary or as powerful as you might think even with his power. But they all believed in me.

It could be the programmed loyalty or maybe they really saw something in me. In either case, it helps me feel better. I at least know that if I fail, they can take over just as well.

But until then I have to lead them as good as I can. It's not a choice anymore. I think I've said that many times. I'm here and I know what I have to do.

I'm going to keep going ahead. Even if I beat myself up, I won't let it hinder me.

"Keep having everyone do what they're doing," I said as I stood up to my full height. "Actually, since we now have the opportunity, Manth Ma I'm going to head down onto Balaho's surface and build temples full of Covenant weapons so we don't have to go through the trouble of 'finding' some for them."

Manth Ma looked at me worriedly as she glanced at Arc, "Are you sure, Sir?" She looked at my bloodied suit and still bloody chin.

I grinned at her and she looked positively mortified at the sight of it.

I should probably get cleaned up first.


	23. Chapter 23

Forge breathed out slowly as he stood outside the Apex. He stared at the strange, almost skeletal design of the alien ships before him. Forerunner dreadnoughts, Serina had called them, and boy were they mean looking.

After Forge and the rest of the marines had fought their way into the library with Anders in tow, they were given a brief but very informative star show. Though, Forge preferred a more action type of show.

Set the whole command staff quiet when they heard. Captain Cutter especially was ghastly white. Arcadia was deep in Outer Colony territory, deeper than how far the Covenant have managed. If they found that then it was only a matter of time before they found the Inner Colonies.

Eventually Captain Cutter regained his wits and was able to persuade General Stanton in relieving a few of his marine companies to the Spirit of Fire. Leaving behind the Pillar of Autumn and several of the frigates, Cutter brought the _Buccaneer_ and two Paris-Class frigates to assist him in defending Arcadia. Or at last safely evacuate it.

The _Buccaneer_ had a slugging match with the Covenant ships while the Paris-Class frigates assisted in the evacuation. From there Red Team had been added to the SPARTAN roster, of which was the talk of immense joy for the marines.

The battle on Arcadia then turned into something akin to Harvest. Scores of marines had been gutted by overhead Covenant air support and at one point they had a whole scarab head prepared and ready to burn a swathe through marine ranks. Eventually the Arcadian Patrol had been absorbed into the manpower and they were able to liberate most of Harvest.

Then Anders was caught.

From there they took off after her but they were forced to leave the _Buccaneer_ behind to restore order onto Arcadia's streets as the large ship wouldn't be able to keep up.

Thus, they enter what Forge was told to be a staple mark on history. A Forerunner Shield World, a working Dyson Sphere structure.

The surface was a hell hole with Flood infection forms and creatures running rampant. It was terrifying and a nightmare Forge didn't want to relive. Even now both the SoF and her two escorts were scrubbing their hulls for any stowaway infection forms.

Of course, following those events, Forge now found himself here, in front of Forerunner dreadnoughts after the SoF was pulled inside the planet alongside her escorts, battled a Covenant Corvette, and then fighting off the Covenant forces as they searched for Anders.

Speaking of her, Anders was currently tapping away on a datapad as the SPARTANs of Echo and Red Team surrounded her. Forge and his men were guarding the Elephant as Elite bodies were scattered on the ground.

It had been a fight towards the Apex as Anders insisted that they retrieve the ships. Normally, Captain Cutter would have destroyed them to deny the Covenant use of the ships...but the UNSC had the upper hand here and the dreadnoughts were priceless pieces of technology. Might even help in the insurrectionists.

"Hey Doc you done yet?" Forge asked as he stepped up next to her.

"Wait a minute Sergeant. This is delicate pieces of technology. They're almost ancient but are far more advanced than any ship fielded by either the UNSC or the Covenant," Anders breathed as she continued to type away.

023, the SPARTAN named Daisy, glanced at him from behind her helmet. Forge got he gist of her message, even as the SPARTANs bodies tensed at that little tidbit of information. "How are they more advanced?" He asked.

"They seem to use a more advanced form of shielding and weaponry. Instead of plasma it uses something called Hard Light, it's fascinating and completely beyond my scope," Anders muttered.

"Never thought I'd hear you say that," Forge muttered.

"What was that Sergeant?" She asked. Forge shook his head and made a gesture with his hands.

"Just wanting to know when we're going to re establish comms with command. It's already been half a month, who knows what could have happened while we were gone."

"For all we know the Covenant could have switched sides!" A Corporal chuckled out loud alongside his squad near the Elephant.

"Yea and those little Grunts actually became hard-assed marines while we were gone!" A marine joked.

"Stow it, marines," Forge said in amusement, "Or I'll drop all of ya down the chasm."

"If I go down feet first, I'll be aight," an ODST said with fake bravado. The marines nearby snorted while the SPARTANs stood quietly behind them.

"Hell with these ships none of those will matter," a more analytical marine said, "Just blow our way through Covenant lines lean and clean."

Everyone chuckled at this. Forge would have joined in too if he hadn't spotted something invisible make its way towards him. He frowned, even as his helmet - a rare thing he had ever opted to wear - began to beep with the motion sensor tripping.

"SpecOps Elites!" Forge yelled as he ducked underneath a sword strike. Performing a duck-and-roll, Forge sprang up in time to see the high-ranking Elite in silver ceremonial armor- now known as a Arbiter by interrogating a Sangheili that spoke english- standing there with a grin over its four mandibles.

"That SOB finally showed himself," Forge muttered. About a whole platoon of Elites appeared behind him, energy swords and staves wielded in their arms. The weapon would be deflected by the beskar armor but concentrated enough to a point and a marine would be out through a slow and agonising death.

"SPARTANs, front and center!" Forge yelled. The SPARTANs responded and began firing at the Elites. Who weaved in and out of the attacks while striking at he marines.

Instead of killing them outright the Elites were concentrating on tossing them over he edge. "Marines fall back behind the SPARTANs!" The SPARTANs would be able to stand on more even footing with the enemy.

As if on cue the leader of Echo team rushed forward with her grenade launcher firing continuously. Four Elites dropped to the ground while another fell of the cliff. She swept the area with her rifle and shot out the legs of three Elites at the front. They crumpled to the ground and the other SPARTAN rushed forward to back her up.

The Elites shouldered the super soldiers fire and rushed forward with their weapons drawn and prepared to spear the enemy through. With the close proximity, the SPARTANs were forced to drop their weapons and activate their vibroblades.

In a battle of asymmetrical warfare, the SPARTANs excelled and were able to beat back the Sangheili warriors. While that was happening, another group of aliens had flanked past the super soldiers and were making their way towards Forge.

"We will not allow your desecration of these holy ships!" The Arbiter yelled and Forge widened his eyes when he saw that half of the Elites were carrying bombs.

"Stop them from the Apex!" He yelled. It seemed that the Covenant would take the roundabout way, if they can have it then neither can the UNSC.

Forge dropped to a knee and fired his shotgun. Dropping the shields off one of the Elites and caving in its guts. His marines line up next to him and fire, the single ODST squad retreating to protect Anders as she unlocked the Forerunner and dreadnoughts and send them towards orbit.

His men formed a firing line, wall keeping the Elites back, and fired. Th Elites raced forward but a few fell under the rate of fire. One of the bullets had hit one of the bombs the Elites carried and Fore braced himself as a blinding white light filled with hot plasma flashed across his visor. He was tossed into he air and was sent sliding back towards the apex.

A few of his marines weren't as lucky and we were sent off the bridge, screaming as they went. However the explosions was powerful, it had scorched the Forerunner metal and burned out the railings on the side. To add to his four Elites were now ash covered corpses with the Arbiter trudging his way through with a snarl.

A marine tried to block his way but the Sangheili swatted him across the head. The human was sent into the air and crashed against another human private. Then the Arbiter swung his blade back around and beheaded a marine trying to stand back up to his toes.

Forge flipped back to his feet and balked as the Covenant Commander charged him with his fist raised. Forge rolled away, missing the strike of the plasma sword, and returned to his feet firing off shots from his pistol. The Elite roared, shouldering he hits and returned to attacking the Sergeant.

The remaining Elites dealt with the surviving marines, driving their swords into guts or the like. Forge gritted his teeth and grabbed the Arbiter's sword hand as it crossed overhead. He hissed as the Sangheili lifted him up off the ground and the Sergeant wrapped his legs around the aliens waist and used his weight to bring the Sangheili down.

The Elite tumbled head first, failing a roll, and rising up just in time for Forge to drive a fist into his head. The alien recoiled away and Forge pressed on, firing ja after jab into the alien head.

The Elites behind him grappled his arms to stop him but one of the Red Team SPARTANs charged him and shoulder bumped it away from the Sergeant. The SPARTAN then shoved his grenade launcher into the aliens splayed open mouth and fired. The head exploded into a mess of gore and the body flopped lifelessly onto the ground.

"Sir!" Jerome asked, only to see Forge kick the Arbiter in the head, then stomped onto its fingers. Ignoring the scream of pain, he unloaded the last bullets in his pistol clip into he alien's head and sighed in contentment.

"I'm fine SPARTAN," Forge replied. Turning around he saw the remaining SPARTANs mop up with the aliens. Crushing bones and metal apart with ease and finesse.

A loud booming sound was heard and Forge turned around to see the Forerunner dreadnoughts rise into the sky, their otherworldly engines and weapons rising without pause.

"I've done it!" Anders enthused as she raced up. "The dreadnoughts will maintain orbit around the Shield World and fire upon any Covenant vessel!"

"How do you know?" Forge asked, even as he stared despairingly at the fact that all of his marines were dead.

Anders shrugged, "When I stood there all the symbols started to make sense, even if I couldn't make sense of it."

Forge glanced at the leader of Echo Team. "Did that make sense?"

She shrugged her shoulders and Forge sighed. "Those ships better be worth it," he muttered.

"They are Sergeant," Anders stated, "For every marine that died here they are going to take a single Covenant Capital Ships."

Forge grinned, "That is what I like to hear."

- **Tom** -

It had been nine months before the universe ended its reboot.

For all intents and purposes, it was clear that it had happened due to a reaction on Tom's part. What that reaction was had been solved when Tom found out that Archer and Kestrel had died. Vahlen theorised that it was due to some unknown trigger that resulted from the universe interpreting the deaths and then using Tom as a conduit for a reaction.

Why it reacted on the Covenant cruiser and why did Tom had no memory of it was unknown. Vahlen had theorised that the reason for this was because of Tom's position as system administrator, or another admin function. Each one of Tom's creations were blank slates, like notepads, until you insert something into them. Notepads themselves can be converted into HTML, Word Documents and the like, which affect the applications in the computer while being completely separate. If anything happens to the Computer, the data would still be there because it doesn't correlate with the system, it's its own sovereign. Tom however is part of the system and due to his, involuntary, actions the system had to reboot. Possibly to stop difficulties memories of the trigger or what had caused it were wiped for fear of a second breakdown in the middle of the reboot.

Then came the question as to what exactly the trigger was and why did Tom react at all. DI wasn't a stranger to casualties, Tom knew he had lost a few HECU and a single Mandalorian since DI's opening into the stage. He didn't like losing men and he mourned for them but most of the time the guilt was replaced with the need to speed things up. His people dying meant that time was running short.

Either way, Tom was unsure what exactly had caused it, why it was caused, and how it was caused. It was painful for him to try and figure it out, even more so when Vahlen and Freeman just shrugged their shoulders telling him they got nothing.

He sighed but at least one good thing came from the whole action.

Since they had a whole nine months with nothing to do, everyone in DI was able to work more freely. Tom went onto Balaho and started spawning ruined temples after ruined temple, filling them to the brim with Covenant weaponry.

Then Tom spawned in a squad of SpecOps grunts- hey look at that -and told them to train the people of Balaho. After a few months of training post reboot, Boho, the newly appointed Unggoy Military Commander had commented to Tom that they were now decently average infantryman with a few glowing exceptions.

Mistress Heta had been appointed the head representative of the Unggoy people to the UNSC and help ensure that the Free Unggoy Nation, abbreviated as FUN (as funny as that is), were allies to Earth not slaves.

The Unggoy, with their impressive reproductive capabilities, managed to develop a fleet of one hundred modified Kig-Yar ships with slipspace drives and UNSC Fast-Action Mass Drivers (FAMDs). They were crewed by a hundred men each and was about the size of a small frigate.

Boho and his SpecOps had joked and called them Retro-Fit Class but the name stuck and now they were called the RF-Light Reconnaissance Frigate by the fledgeling Unggoy Military.

The Kig-Yar, or the pirates that aligned with the UNSC, but had expressly informed the brass that they would not work with the Unggoy. The brass took it in stride and the Unggoy have since broadcasted a system wide message all throughout Covenant space, imploring the Unggoy to rise.

Tom didn't know what was going on in that front but he knew Boho would keep him updated.

On other news, Desmond had discovered the reason behind the large number of SPARTAN-III's. The UNSC was planning on invading Covenant space- what a novelty (sarcasm).

The reason why there were five-hundred SPARTAN-III's were simple. The augmentations, while on their own right giving the S-III's massives boosts to their own abilities, would be tempered with how their armor didn't boost their abilities. In some ways the S-III's excelled over the S-II's in specialized tasks but the older generation trumped the younger generation with experience and generally more standardized and general training with specializations connected to their excelling characteristics following solo missions.

The idea was to add a squad or platoon of S-IIIs under the command of an S-II. The S-III's can keep up with the S-II and assist the older SPARTANs in handling objectives with their more specialized training and heavy teamwork based training rather than the one man hit them all of the IIs.

Imagining it, a whole platoon of IIIs with a II at the helm was certainly a terrifying image. Especially since the planet they planned on taking first was a Sangheili-Lekgolo occupied colony closest to UNSC space.

That idea, Tom liked it. He could get behind that wholeheartedly. To assist his DI had unveiled their first ever Directed Energy Weapon, the L1 Rifle. Keeping it simple with the naming this time. It was like a Mandalorian rifle, with a curved stock and a scope. It was a good infantry weapon.

Freeman had also added a grenade launcher underneath it and designed the new DCRL (Directed Control Rocket Launcher). Following the same principle from Half-life 2, the rocket could be led by moving the rocket, however the difference to this was that more than one rocket was being fired, in fact it was six, and they were designed as Anti-Air and Anti-Tank weapons, fitting both roles perfectly with raw kinetic brute force impact and a slim low air resistant frame.

Fitting offensive weapons for the future.

SPARTAN Black Team however was being kept close watch on and Tom was milking the listening devices in Parangosky office for all they were worth.

He knew, he was going to cut that bitch out of office. She was ruthless and needed in the old UNSC but not in the world that Tom was building. Nope, not at all.

- **Grey Warden** -

The Grey Warden was staring impassively at _Rising Few_ and _Lighter Than Some._ Both Huragok had defected over to the UNSC side early on in the war and were playing with he L1 rifles. They made a few adjustments but otherwise returned unmolested. GW grinned, that meant they couldn't find anything to improve.

The Huragok _Rising Few_ had actually defected during Cole's first battle over Harvest. He had presented a whole Covenant battlecruiser as a gift and the UNSC had been breaking it apart since they got it.

The seeking plasma ordnance was one of great talk. The shields too was something they wanted on their ships, even if they had Beskar armor.

GW however had been the only one to stand steadfast against the ONI scientists and had actually been forced to vent enough atmosphere to knock out an entire room to keep them safe.

As GW watch both Huragok dismantle the Covenant shield generator and scan through the blueprints, GW thought back to Sif and Mack.

Probably out making AI babies, GW thought, sixth generation AIs in the making and all from underaged super genuises. GW chuckled as he continued to watch the Huragok work.

As the only DI AI he had been monitoring Booker, Ryan, Alpha and Bravo's progress in the Outer Colonies. Due to the reboot, the four of them had managed to place C6 charges at every major Covenant base and detonate them after he reboot ended. Resulting in the near instantaneous ground defeat of Covenant forces in twenty-six different worlds.

GW had hacked into he Covenant battlenet and laughed at how bewildered they became seeing hundreds of thousands of Covenant warriors wink out across solar systems.

It was funny as well as self evaluating as GW made several checks on his algorithms to make sure he wasn't insane.

He had also kept in contact with 001 Midnight Servant as she conversed with 343 Guilty Spark. He was intrigued with their experimentation with the Flood but otherwise nonplussed when both the Monitor of the installation and he Monitor of him began gushing about how effective their Sentinels were at killing Flood.

GW had cut off their connection as soon as he heard that. He had about weird parents but that topped the icing on the cake.

Now...all GW had to do was wait for Black Box to show himself...and then promptly delete him from existence.


	24. Chapter 24

Thel Vadamee was part of the Vadam clan of the Sangheili, a particularly noble fiefdom in the still feudal society of the Sangheili culture. At the peak of his youth, he was a very promising young member of his race and he had quickly excelled to the rank of Shipmaster. Though he had still yet to reach the position of Fleetmaster, something he thought he had right to soon.

But as he had commanded his ship _Tears of Failing Redemption_ , he was caught befuddled when a message from the Unggoy on Balaho had been intercepted by his ship's COMM unit.

What had happened next was a series of spiraling discontent. The message was simple, a single Unggoy Mistress told the Unggoy on his ship that they were now free people and demanded the second coming of the Unggoy rebellion under the name of the Free Unggoy Nation.

Thel had quickly ordered the message severed and corralled his Unggoy together. He warned them sternly the punishment of treason and began to speak about the heretics of this Mistress Heta. At least a few of the Unggoy seemed cowed by his intimidating aura while others were muttering with discontent.

Thel had wished he had killed those.

If he had then he would still have his ship and he and his men wouldn't be fighting the resurgence of the Unggoy on High Charity.

Their numbers were swelling and with their homeworld now free and standing strong, they fought to the bitter end. Habitat zones were spent with thousands of loyal Covenant troops before they were destroyed and the Kig-Yar were becoming far too aggressive for Thel's liking.

Thankfully the majority of the Unggoy had sided with the Covenant. That made more than a few people glad of such an outcome but the fighting still grey heavy and unyielding violence was springing everywhere on the Holy City.

"Shipmaster," A Sangheili stated, firing his Plasma Rifle at a whole score of Unggoy infantry moving through the street. "This whole sector has been compromised, we must retreat immediately."

Thel grumbled, turning to see the rest of his men, a mix of loyal Unggoy and Kig-Yar, ducking as green plasma soared overhead. "Call in the gunships, if we cannot liberate it then it must be destroyed. The heretics must not be allowed any more ground to be theirs!" The Sangheili nodded and ran away with his powerful legs in full throttle.

Chips of Thel's cover was vaporized by the passing glances of plasma and explosive detonations. He glanced over the rock and frowned at the heretics scurrying around, exchanging a fuel rod cannon between each Unggoy. Thel reacted and fired a shot from his Carbine, striking the fuel rod at its ammunition and causing the whole line to disappear in a white flash.

The Unggoy there were burned to a crisp, little of their own bodies surviving the explosion. Thel heard some of his men click in shock and disgust, he understood their reservations truly he did but the war with he Unggoy could not be handled any longer. Not too mention they were at war with the humans, whom presented a much greater threat assessment.

"Fall back!" Thel ordered and slowly stepped away as he fired his plasma rifles which he was dual-wielding. Three Unggoy fell under his barrage while another was clipped right under his faceplate, leading him to death by asphyxiation.

The rebel Unggoy surged forward now that Thel and his men had retreated. As the Shipmaster ran, he was able to catch sight of four Spirit's flying overhead with their turrets swinging around. Plasma fire bounded out of its side, splashing against the rubble and stone before the green ball of explosive kinetic force from a plasma cannon struck it in its side and sent it into a spiralling descent into the ground.

Thel balked but did not stop his powerful legs as he retreated into the safety of a Covenant platoon manned mostly by the Sangheili. His kin made several crisp snaps of their mandibles, the leader dressed in white stepping forward with a questioning gait.

"What happened?" The SpecOps asked. Thel shook his head and pointed out towards the Holy City currently embroiled in a civil war.

"The Unggoy march for the center, no doubt to cut he heads of the High Prophets. Their numbers are too many, we need more assistance," Thel urged, his three-fingered hands gripping his plasma rifle tightly.

The SpecOps Major seem to contemplate on those words. "I will gather the men, however, we must be wary. These Unggoy are the minority of their fellows but they are still numerous," the SpecOps bristled then added, "and you would be wise not to trust the Unggoy under your command so willingly either."

"Yes, I agree," Thel muttered as he stated at his Unggoy. It was a despicable thing to say but there was no doubt that with the rising tensions and escalating rebellion, it would be wise to hold at least a modicum of suspicion over his soldiers.

"Come men! To glory!" The SpecOps Major thundered and the Sangheili behind him rallied at his call. They raced forward, prepared to meet the Unggoy ground-for-ground to defend the High Prophets.

Thel wished them luck silently before turning and running back towards a makeshift camp at the center of Eastern High Charity. He paused however when he saw an explosion occur south of his location, the unmistakable hue of a green explosion rocking the area of High Charity he was located in.

Thel frowned and correctly guessed that the Unggoy had begun an assault on the area of there. He silently wondered what was there beyond a few residential districts, communication towers and recreational devices...communicational towers.

His eyes widened and he quickly race towards the camp, his tone frantic. "Everyone prepare to move, the Unggoy are assaulting the communication tower to the South. We must stop them!" he ordered.

The Sangheili there looked surprise but none questioned his orders and followed him obediently as they procured two dozen Banshees. Thel hopped into one and ordered the Unggoy and Kig-Yar of his unit to stay as they are.

Satisfied that they wouldn't betray them and shoot down the Sangheili, he steered his Banshee into the air and towards the communication tower. He banked his aerial vehicle into a turn and was appalled at the level of destruction that the Unggoy had managed.

Bringing his ship around he caught sight of the massive Unggoy attack on the Communication Tower. Streaks of green and blue darted back and forth between the two lines of Unggoy rebels and Covenant Loyalists. Thel steered his Banshee into a low dive and fire his fuel rod cannon into he mess of heretics.

They squawked as they were blown apart by he blast, which were followed closely by the others behind him, and Thel circled back around. Weapons fire darted up from below and Thel brought the aircraft into evasive manoeuvres, deftly dodging the attacks of concentrated energy, and swept away another line of Unggoy with a well place explosion.

Thel dropped out of his Banshee and roared loudly as he advanced towards the Unggoy rebels.

It was _hours_ later before he had managed to secure the communication tower but even then it was a hollow victory. He had bee forced it, lest the Unggoy manage to break through and inform their rebels on their homeworld of the location of High Charity, which has since moved to a different location.

The Unggoy just kept coming and while the Unggoy Rebellion from past heralded greater numbers and surely greater destruction, this one was just as untamed. While many of the Unggoy had remained loyal to the Sangheili, due to their better relationship with them then other Covenant species, most of the Unggoy under the Jiralhanae and others had defected and joined the rebels side.

Thel tiredly rubbed his eyes as he entered the bridge of his ship. The Sangheili there stopped what they were doing to bow their heads to their Shipmaster and Thel waved away their formalities.

When the Sangheili stepped up to his command chair, he was disgusted to see fires billowing off from High Charity's streets and environment domes. But it was far more contained and chaotic then what would have been, Thel supposed, it certainly wasn't going to have any lasting damage.

Thel brought his arm down and scanned the new orders that were sent to his interface. He felt his mandibles go wide at the order. His ship, alongside four others, would move towards Balaho and quell the resistance there.

Thel Vadamee was no coward but he was very cautious. There was no doubt that the Unggoy on Balaho had a fleet in orbit, perhaps more than that, and were at least confident enough in their abilities to stand up against the Covenant. If not, then that 'Mistress Heta' was grossly overplaying the apparent Unggoy rise.

"Navigation, set course for Balaho," Thel ordered. "and contact the battleships at our stern, they'll be coming with us."

"Yes Shipmaster," The Sangheili crew said in unison.

A portal opened up in front of his ship, the beginning of slipspace travel, and Thel watched as his ship moved inside.

- **Tom** -

Tom groaned as he walked out of the DI HQ lab on Tribute. Vahlen was behind him, holding a datapad from their latest scan of his brain.

Due to the incident near Balaho, where an entire Covenant cruiser was deleted and the members of DI were trapped in limbo for months, Vahlen had insisted he be present for scientific testing. Tom was beginning to understand that his powers, if called as such, were volatile. He had been using them for years, he was already somewhere in his mid twenties so it's been at last close to a decade, and these problems had never arise before.

But Tom understood that he probably didn't have as much control over his powers as he think he did. Vahlen had even warned Tom that perhaps these occurrences had been happening regularly and he just hadn't notice or couldn't _remember_. Thinking about it, that certainly wouldn't be out of place. There were moments in his life here where Tom couldn't remember as vividly as he could have. Plus there were a lot of things that he could not understand being in places where he had no reason for. Like that piece of gum, which for some reason he had started chewing on more even though he hated them, or how Arc had stated events happening in his life but those involved, and Tom himself, having no memory of it.

"There doesn't seem to be anything strange in your brain activity. But I have noted an increase in your brain mass," Vahlen muttered.

"increase in brain mass?" Tom muttered. This was the first time he had allowed Vahlen to stick needles and such into his head. So obviously he would be interested in what their first session had achieved.

"Your brain is bigger," Vahlen explained, "though not too detrimental in effect. It's about 0.6% bigger than usual and there's something strange with the electrical impulses going around."

"What does it mean?" He asked. Vahlen shrugged, her lips pursed as she tried to find something in her scientific brain of hers.

"I don't know, not _yet_ anyways. But I know we'll find out eventually," she stated with conviction. Must be her XCOM pride bleeding through, understandable considering how XCOM reverse engineered alien technology in days, and Tom was inclined to trust in that pride.

"So uh, where's Freeman?" Tom wondered as he tared down at DI's hall.

Vahlen's face soured but she nodded her silently, "His on his way to Onyx. I don't know how, or why really, but Desmond had managed to wrangle Ackerman to allow DI scientists to improve on the SPI armor design. While he was skeptical, there was no denying that our involvement on the MJOLNIR project heralded better results."

"Speaking of which how is Volpe handling the thirteen washouts...or is it twelve now since Musa joined the college on Mars?" Tom asked.

Vahlen blinked at his question and seemed to contemplate it, "I'm not sure to be completely honest. I do know that Volpe got promoted to Captain though and has commandeered a Prowler with his staff."

Tom frowned, "I didn't know about this."

"He can't always update us anymore," Vahlen shrugged.

Tom sighed insufferably before asking another question, "What about the IIIs? How long until they're operational?"

"In another year or two, probably."

Tom raised an eyebrow at that, "That would make them twelve!"

Vahlen gave him a critical eye, "The original IIs were fourteen when they had their augmentations and the IIIs will be receiving it chemically rather than in surgery. So their survival rate is higher, and not to mention with the L1's hitting the market and Covenant reverse-engineered plasma batteries being outfitted onto ships, the offensive is being rushed."

Tom cupped his chin, "All the Olympus class ships we built are in orbit over Gabriel-IV right?" The Olympus class was a ship that DI had designed for the UNSC. Fully ready made Beskar plated ships with MACs and Mass Drivers. Not to mention, Tom had heard news of Covenant weaponry being tested out on the ship.

"Yes, with an outstanding fleet of one hundred and thirty ships." Tom made a low whistle and nodded to himself.

"That's quite something." Tom nodded his head. He knew this was something that had never happened in the original canon storyline. He had made several changes, no doubt about that, but this was unprecedented. Attacking the Covenant? Actually fighting back for all it was worth. The twenty odd years that the Covenant had fought against humanity may have been able to run off on religious fervor for so long due to the Covenant's superior technology, but surely if humanity began attacking _their_ colonies, taking _their_ worlds, then even the most religious would have to question why they were fighting an enemy of equal footing. Heretics or not.

The Prophet of Truth relies on obedience and religious servitude to maintain his seat of power and his Age of Reclamation. But his people aren't self-destructive and while the Covenant had expended a lot of manpower in the Human-Covenant war, they had not lost homes, family and allegiances.

The Kig-Yar and Unggoy are no doubt splintering the already strained unity and the Sangheili must be losing face to the Jiralhanae now that they face such odds. Truth was slowly but surely losing his hand. So many things now barred his way, those rings cannot keep the masses enthralled forever after all. Civil war, an all-out war and a war of beliefs. The Covenant is straining under the pressure, Tom knew it.

At least Tom hoped it was.

- **Cutter** -

Cutter was surprised when he had returned to UNSC space. So much had literally happened while he was gone. Directed energy weapon? Reverse-engineered Covenant guns? An offensive into Covenant controlled space? Everything was moving in a pace he could barely understand.

Though he understood that he had contributed somewhat into the development. The Forerunner dreadnoughts, a fleet of ten operational ships with the rest having been damaged by Covenant forces groundside before Anders had unlocked all of them, had been assembled and were being prepared for combat. Five ships would remain on UNSC space and the other five would be retrofitted, though that was unneeded, and manned by a human crew to assist in the offensive.

A new protocol, the Ancient Temple Protocol, dictated future UNSC meetings with Forerunner derelicts or installations. Call in FLEETCOM, mark the area, and prepare an adequate science team to investigate the ruins. Any useful technology and then some was sent back to UNSC space before the Covenant showed up.

The scripts on the Forerunner installations also showed a connection with the Covenant as they shared many letters. The anthropologists in the ranks of the ONI scientists had made the theory that the Forerunners were the Covenant's gods, and their reverence was due to the long extinct race.

Well, Cutter didn't know what to say about that. But he could understand why the aliens held the derelict technology in such reverence. Hell he would to, and he had.

Standing in the bridge of the Forerunner ship, amidst the hard light displays and controls, it certainly was something to be awed by.

"Sir we're getting a package from Reach," an ensign reported as he clicked on a floating golden image that was solid.

"Bring it up, Ensign," Cutter ordered.

"it's not data, Sir. It's an AI fragment." Cutter frowned and watched as the image of a man in steel plating armor appeared. He grinned at Cutter and introduced himself as Grey Warden.

"You're DI's AI," Cutter said guardedly. While Cutter understood that Dimensional Intervention had done much for the UNSC, expanding technological advances in weaponry and medicine, alongside power, but he was of the conservative side that were against the PMC having such an active role.

They didn't know what was Dimensional Intervention's intentions. This could be a deadly political play that was happening in the background and Cutter would be none the wiser. Still he supposed they weren't evil, like how others deemed them. The discounts they provide to the UNSC with their products were unbelievable and their work against the Insurrectionist was more than he expected.

They were all gone, the Eridanus rebels, the Capital on Victoria, everything was gone. The rebels could still hit back, but they weren't a threat anymore, but it was something to keep at the back his mind. They were disorganized, without a leader, and left to their own devices. Which was very few.

"Yes, I am." The AI glanced around the ship and frowned. "Though given context I suppose I'm an ancilla."

Cutter frowned in confusion but GW didn't elaborate anymore than that. "What are you doing here?"

"Cataloguing data. Most of the AI's on ONI's payroll are at work researching the Covenant ships we captured." The AI shrugged, "Though I'm sure they're only trying to keep me away from the Huragoks. Too bad for them, I'm smarter than I look."

"I see," Cutter slowly admitted. After a moment in silence GW shrugged and started bringing up other interfaces and started going through algorithms, numbers and other exotic scripts.

"I'll be done in a moment," he said, "Best to leave me alone for now."

"I can't exactly let you do as you please without supervision," Cutter informed.

GW smiled up at Cutter, "Blunt man, fine then I'll do my work in front of you." And like that more scripts and numbers flashed in front of him.

"Though if you can understand it is something else entirely...," The AI said with a grin.

Cutter groaned.

- **Boho** -

Boho the grunt SpecOps grumbled beneath his breath as he stalked down on the new Unggoy Nation Ships, the UNS _Heta_ , and frowned as he nodded to the few Unggoy still aboard the ship.

They seem to instill him with some sort of hero worship. To be frank Boho could do without it but if it kept morale up, who was he to stop it?

Still, it felt strange for him to work on a ship. His memories of his SpecOps days were fuzzy but he distinctly remembered being only on ground ops, with small perhaps involuntary time spent on ships. There was something about the feel of dirt that calmed him.

He sighed. Dirt was of little supppy on Balaho, considering their icy winds and mountainous amount of snow. Balaho was their homeland, but it left much to be desired. The Unggoy weren't even a Tier 6 species, still stuck in Tier 1. They would need a lot of pushing to be able to meet the standards of he current super-powers.

He grumbled beneath his breath, the plasma pistol clipped to his side being his only solace, and walked into the bridge. The bridge crew all gave an Unggoy salute, or as close to one as they could manage, and Boho returned. He placed emphasis on how he moved though, making sure to show them how a proper bed was made.

"Captain Atab," Boho greeted. The Unggoy seating on the command chair nodded tentatively at Boho's greeting. The Unggoy wasn't a terrible person, a good soldier in his own right, but he was a little bit too shy and cowardly. Though for Unggoy standards that was better than most.

Bohi frowned. As a SpecOps Unggoy Boho had been trained rigidly and didn't break formation, rarely missed and could lift a fuel rod cannon one handed if he needed to. It was wishful thinking to expect the same for the rest of his species though. Truly it was. Though he was satisfied with how the Unggoy military was now at last a generally average fighting force.

Balaho hadn't given him much room to train an army and even then he had to be wary of the winter taking the lives of his trainees. Eventually he found a cave big enough to house his recruits and began training them to become proper infantry.

It was...grueling. For them and him, but mostly for them. They hit their targets three out of five times and knew a proper handle on tactics but still, Boho had seen fit to promote most of his SpecOps Unggoy to higher positions because right now the Unggoy could just be called a very inexperienced militia.

He stepped on the bridge and was greeted with Unggoy snapping their own version of a salute. Boho assessed the minute movements, frowning when he saw that some weren't standing as straight as they should be or were fidgeting in their place, and made sure to return the salute perfectly. He had to set a example, just to keep everyone spit-and-polish.

"Captain Koko," Boho greeted. The Unggoy on the Captain's pedestal (as Unggoy couldn't sit comfortably on chairs) saluted him as he walked up. Koko was a good Captain, but Boho's strength laid in infantry combat so he wasn't sure just how good he was. He understood however that Koko retained some of the Unggoy innate cowardliness and hoped that he would get out of the habit.

"Head Commander Boho," Koko greeted, struggling with the long unfamiliar title. Boho didn't blame him, like their names, Unggoy like to keep their titles simple and 'Head Commander' was a syllable too long.

"What's the situation?" Boho asked as he eyed the half dozen other RT-Class LRFs that were in an arc around the _Heta_.

"All green, Head Commander," Koko reported, "Though I'm worried if we can really hold out against the Covenant if they arrive."

Boho shrugged his shoulders but before he could mention anything else, an Unggoy at the science console chittered awake and started cursing out loud. "I'm picking up slipspace ruptures eighty kilometres in front. Large contacts, their cruisers!"

Koko squawked even when Boho crossed his arms in apparent acceptance. "Captain bring your ship to bare," Boho ordered. The SpecOps Unggoy wasn't a Navy man and the idea of commanding a ship was galling to him but he knew enough to at least know what to do.

"Take the helm Captain, this is your marsh," he informed Koko. Still, this was their battle and it was time to see where their training took them.

He could see Koko fidget but carefully he placed his hands on the safety rails around his pedestal and ordered the ship to move forward. Boho could see three dozen other RT-Class LRFs matching their speed and following them.

The Covenant Cruisers didn't broadcast a message, not that Boho expected them to, and immediately opened fire. The blue balls of plasma arched through space and Boho knew three of the frigates would go up in balls of flames before the plasma even struck.

The _Heta_ engaged evasive manoeuvres. Its only advantage was its speed and Koko knew that. The other Frigates did the same and began moving in unpredictable patterns and adjusted themselves when being tracked by the homing plasma projectile.

Heta opened fire on its bow, two plasma batteries scaled down to fit onto a frigate. It splashed against the shields of the large cruiser but Boho could tell they were making some leeway. The _Heta_ then made a sharp turn, performing moves fit for a single interceptor instead of a frigate.

Turning around, the _Heta_ opened fire with its secondary weapons. Lasers, taken from the Kig-Yar pirates, stung against the shields. Covenant shields could take a great deal of damage, but there was a way to circumvent them. Brute forces, whittling away at their shields, often worked but it used up too much energy. However a little bit more finesse, pressure applied onto a smaller scale, would break through the shield as easy as a hammer on glass.

Plus the _Heta_ wasn't the only one doing his and four other Frigates followed its examples and fired their laser. They broke through the shields, losing four more Frigates in the intervening time.

But with the shield out of the way the lasers were allowed to splash against the Covenant metal but they could do much damage even if they wanted to. Instead, the laser cut a small hole, and when that was done, the _Heta_ fired a plasma battery inside and watched as the inside of the ship suffered damage. This process was repeated by the other Frigates and roughly a dozen balls of plasma had been stuffed into the Covenant ship.

The engines were shut off, no doubt due to power failure, and the ship lurched forward. The remaining three cruisers opened fire at the fleet still holding ground some odd kilometres away. It was caught by surprise when all eighty or so ships fired simultaneously.

The large influx of plasma slammed against the shields, overloading it in seconds, and having enough to spare to gut he ship from front to stern. It spiralled out of control before breaking into two.

The last two ships began to retreat but the RT-Class Frigates were able to knock out the engines to one of them, breakin it to smithereens. But instead of dying peacefully, the ship imploded due to a reactor meltdown and Boho had to grip onto something as the ship rocked from the explosion.

Half a dozen Frigates were vaporized from the blast and the last ship disappeared as it entered slipspace.

"Did we get them all?" An Unggoy asked nervously.

"No," Boho replied, "But at least know they know we can hold them off."

Boho wasn't sure that was a good thing but he'd be damned if he let Balaho be glassed by the Covenant.

"Prepare a boarding party onto the ship," Boho ordered them.

"Yes, Head Commander," Koko replied. Thn towards a COMM unit he ordered the men in the ship to prepare for combat.

" _Tears of Failing Redemption_ ," Boho muttered, "Odd name for the Covenant."


	25. Chapter 25

Halsey muttered quietly to herself as she stared at the mission reports of her SPARTANs. Blue Team were starting to make a name for themselves on the outer colonies and Red Team alongside Omega had been reassigned to the new Forerunner dreadnoughts for their shakedown runs.

Of course people would wonder how she knew this. Well even as a civilian scientist, and one that was not well liked, she had friends in many places. She wasn't like some all-seeing force, like how ONI likes to say they are, but she worked long enough with them that she knew how to deal with information gathering. Just had to know how to pull people.

"Catherine, I'm going out with some friends!" a child's voice yelled. Halsey tensed and immediately stood up, walking briskly towards the door of her room, and stepped out.

"And where exactly are you going, Miranda?" Halsey asked as she peered down at the young teenager. She wasn't old enough for high school, not yet, but it was still a school night and there better have been a good reason for going out today.

"I have a science project on Celestial Bodies and I'm meeting up with members of my group!" She replied, exasperated. Halsey pursed her lips as she thought about it. Science project? For school? They still did that? When she was fifteen she was taking college entrance exams so her knowledge on this was sparse.

"Well, be sure to be home before dinner," she said sternly. Let it be known, even if she was considered to be an ice cold and hostile scientist, she knew how to play the strict mother very well. Lecturing the members of Gray Team was a chore in and of itself, especially when Chief Mendez couldn't be present for the lecture to keep them behaved.

"I know, I know. You can't cook without me helping you," Miranda retorted. She was a cool and collected young girl, especially to her father who saw her as his pride and joy, but when in front of Halsey she seem to drop it and act more like a teenager then Mike or Adrianna way back when.

"Your father had no complaints," Halsey said easily. She knew she wasn't the best cook, in fact Jacob was a better cook and regularly cook dinner ever since she had returned from the SPARTAN project and reconciled with him and their daughter. It was awkward at first, especially since Miranda was originally under her care before Halsey pushed her away to Jacob to keep her safe and because she rarely spent any time with her.

But Jacob had always been _her_ lieutenant, and Miranda had still been young at the time, she barely remembered her mother much. Though she still insisted on calling Halsey Catherine instead of mother. Halsey found she quite liked that, reminded her of her own relationship with her mother.

"Dad's your lost puppy. _Of course_ he'd say it tastes great!" Halsey raised an eyebrow at that and stepped back as she gestured her hand down towards the front door.

"You're right, he _is_ my puppy. How do you think I had you?" Halsey said calmly as she waits for he teen to go.

Miranda gripped her face as she walked past her, "I don't even know if that was you trying to tease me or scar me for life."

Halsey hid her smirk as Miranda walked out the door. Well Halsey really wasn't lying, the doctor thought. Back when Jacob was a young lieutenant and he was tasked with following her around while she recruited the SPARTAN children, Jacob had been like a lost puppy every time he lost her while she was on her brief but numerous mental tangents. She still remembered his expression every time he caught sight of her in the road, that relieved and slightly annoyed look a puppy would give at its owner for not patting it on the had.

Once she really did do that and while she meant it as a joke, Jacob was a _military_ man after all, he had willingly allowed her to do it even if he felt it was the whim of a civilian.

After a brief moment she frowned. Letting all the worries to return to her shoulders as she watched the door close.

The Insurrectionists were defeated, without her SPARTANs. A part of her couldn't help but think that, if the Covenant had arrived, would all the trouble she had put her SPARTANs through be for nought? The rebels had been effectively defeated by, not the UNSC's hand, but a PMC.

Of course she knew she was being irrational. The Covenant had already crippled the Insurrectionists since they were mostly based in the Outer Colonies, right in the path of the Covenant. And DI had their eyes on the Innies since the very beginning, for whatever apparent reason.

Halsey hummed as she turned and walked towards a window. Luna wasn't a very populated planet, even with it being so close to Earth. Most people in Sol tend to move to Mars or one of the Jovian moons, not on such a small cramp place like Luna. On the contrary though, Luna had a lot of space (Of course it does) and most of it was dominated with an economical city. There was barely any traffic jams to boot.

It was a beautiful evening right now. She had never been so idle like this for so long. In the SPARTAN training camp on Reach, she was always with other scientists or dealing with the SPARTAN children. She had memorised all of their little habits, able to tell all of the SPARTANs apart even in armor, and she had always been busy. Even before the SPARTAN project she had been working with the Navy under an Admiral, and as such she had plenty to do.

The earliest memory she could think of that was like this was when she was in her college dorm. How odd, she thought, how things seem to change then return back to the same. Well, with a few difference.

Yes, maybe her SPARTANs can do it too, when this war was over.

A ringing sound was heard and Halsey pulled up her phone to see who was calling her.

Caller ID: VAHLEN (Work)

- **Keyes** -

On board the _Meriwether Lewis,_ Jacob Keyes had his ME-PDW trained at the bridge door. Unfortunately for him the thinkers up to hadn't managed to develop a pistol that shot lasers yet, just the L1 rifle.

That was fine, he could handle this much. Even so, the rest of the bridge crew looked more prepared to die then he did. Well that wasn't right, he had no intention of dying today. He had no room in his mind to imagine Miranda attending his funeral...or to entertain the idea of Halsey bringing him back to life and killing him again.

Breathing out calmly to dispel his thoughts, Jacob steadied his hands as he stared at the bulkhead door leading into the bridge.

A second. Maybe a two. Then Jacob found himself on his back as a bright flash filled the room. He squinted his eyes and twisted around to his front while bracing his arms.

He heard the bridge guard open fire, lasers twisting left and right as they exchanged fire. The Navy Lieutenant hopped to his feet and fired his pistol. A click of his trigger and a bullet traveled through in a flash, skewering a Grunt from its neck and slamming into the oddly bent knee of an Elite.

Flashes of blue speared his vision and the smell of burnt flesh filled the air. Jacob glanced down at his feet and tried to push away the sight of the broken young Lieutenant blonde girl clutching her stomach as the lights dimmed in her eyes.

Stepping back, another salvo of plasma slammed the console behind him. "Damn," he cursed as the sparks burned his left hand. He staggered, hopping on his left leg, and fired again at the next alien that came into view.

A Jackal this time, it's shields raised up protectively, with an Elite behind it. The Elite roared and shoved the Jackal aside as it activated its Energy Sword. The large beast charged a bewildered marine that had taken a hit to his helmet, and slammed its sword into the Beskar. The armor deflected the hit but the marine was sent barreling back into the weapons console.

Something must have broken because the console lit up as electricity sparked and the marine tumbled to the ground as a part of his armor caught fire. The bridge system detected the smoke and activated the sprinklers, drenching both human and alien with water.

Jacob squinted through the drizzle of water, even as his uniform and his PCV was sticking uncomfortably to his tensed and rigid muscles. He blinked and cried out in pain as plasma slammed into his thigh. A shrill alarm from his PCV was heard and he immediately dove for cover.

A guttural roar was heard and the lieutenant was surprised to see the Captain hoisted off the ground with a sword straight through his gut. Clenching his teeth Jacob aimed his weapon and fired at the Elites head.

The first shot glanced off the aliens shields but it still managed to cause it to stagger. It seemed to click its mandibles together before it twisted and tossed the dead body at Jacob. But the brief moment of hesitation was enough for one of the surviving bridge guards to open fire with his L1, cutting the Elite into pieces.

That too was short lived though as the Jackal brought its pistol to bear and fired at the marine. The spray of green plasma glanced off his armor but an overcharged shot slammed into his head, superheating the armor and sending shockwaves through his skull. If there was one bad thing about Beskar armor it was that it didn't negate most of the force being placed on it.

The marine was knocked out, not killed, and he fell backwards onto the ground. Jacob was among the last surviving members of the bridge, another being the Lieutenant that manned navigations. She glanced up at him and Jacob knew he saw her gulp down a ball of saliva.

This was it. Covenant don't take prisoners? what they take were dead bodies and burned homes. Jacob twisted to his feet at he same time she did and fired at the remaining boarders that had entered their ship.

The aliens squawked and the Jackals formed a phalanx to defend their superiors behind them. The bullets pinged off them and Jacob hissed quietly to himself.

The Nav lieutenant seemed to have caught on and dove for the unconscious marines L1. She gripped it in her fingers and fired wildly at the Jackals as she scurried back to cover. One of the red beams of energy slammed in the foot of a Jackal and it dropped to the ground, screaming all the while.

With their phalanx broken, Jacob pressed his assault and killed two Grunts preparing to toss a grenade at him. He grimaced as another explosion took place inside the small confined space and felt his chest swell in relief at the sight of the aliens on the ground dead.

He turned and helped the other survivor to her feet. He heard the sounds of something searing through metal and the adrenaline returned before it could properly dissipate. He heard the lieutenant suck in a breath at the sounds of boots, or whatever the Covenant wore, hit the ground somewhere in the hallway.

He pointed her towards weapons station 2, the only remaining station that's not sparking wildly, and then he dropped down next to the unconscious marine and dragged him back to safety.

He dropped to a knee and waited. He saw a flash of white in his peripheral and twisted his gun to follow. A glow of blue met his sights and he slowly dropped his finger fromt the trigger.

"Friendlies!" a voice shouted as four figures stepped onto the bridge. Jacob breathed out quietly and looked at the bleached armor that stood in front of him. They were big, easily standing over Keyes, but they weren't as big as SPARTANs nor did they look like they were wearing UNSC certified armor. Too eye-catching.

"Delta Team hold!" The soldier in the lead ordered and gestured to Jacob. "Dimensional intervention Commandos. We were passing by when we noticed your ship being boarded."

Jacob looked out the window at the Covenant corvette, no bigger than his ship, was sitting idly by. "What about the other aliens?" Keyes asked.

"Dealt with?"

"How?" As if to answer his question, one of the Commandos pulled out a detonator and pressed his thumb over big red button dramatically.

The engines of the Covenant ship exploded, not quite big enough to cause catastrophic failure that would destroy them as well, and secondary explosions riddled the hull.

"The ship is now disabled and leaking atmosphere, Sir!" The Commando that had pressed the button said, sounding too cherry for Jacobs liking.

"Good work Scorch," their leader commented. Jacob held back on his snort, mercenaries and their nicknames.

"No problem Boss."

Jacob looked at them and couldn't help but frown. "You said you were passing by, why were you all the way out here?" He appreciated their help but last he heard DI Operatives were helping out the frontlines now that the Insurrectionists had been taken cared of.

"With all due respect, we don't answer to you," Scorch said heatedly but Boss lifted his hand up to quiet him. The leader inclined his head in a nod and lifted his gun up to his chest.

"We were returning from an escort mission." While he saw that another one of the Commandos went to help the Nav lieutenant, carefully taking her rifle and leading her out of the bridge. She looked shell-shock.

"Escort? Who were you escorting all the way out here?"

- **Volpe** -

"Goddamn rebels and their cockroach tendencies," Volpe muttered. Charybdis IX was a hotbed of rebellion, though they weren't really classified as part of the Insurrectionist. That didn't change the fact that most of the survivors fled either here or to the Rubble, which was still a hideout rather than the last remnants of Madrigal.

The planet was highly industrialized and run by corporations. That also led to many grievances. Long story short, people were paid by companies and stayed in company rented apartment and bought from company-run stores. Some of them got greedy, wanted to monopolise, and started bumping up prices past what the company paid, people got into debt, and a lot of people became iffy on who was on their shitlist.

In another time Volpe would have probably supported them. In a way, if Tom stood on the other end, Volpe would have been fighting with the insurrectionists rather than the UNSC. They had good people, there was no doubt in that, but there were certain aspects he did not agree with even though he understood the necessity and how there was no other way around it.

While the UNSC was oppressive in a sense, they weren't the Borgia, and while the Insurrectionist fought for their freedom, Volpe did not agree with their means. And did people forget aliens were trying to kill them?

But despite his feelings on this, Volpe was still unsure. Tom hadn't ordered for Volpe to be here. Parangosky had, and whenever Parangosky ordered him to do, Volpe became wary. This wasn't even his marsh, he was tasked with communication between DI Operatives and alien-human relations. This wasn't his job. Still he guessed it would be within his jurisdiction to call in DI Operatives to assist his investigation here, as he had gotten Delta Team to escort him here. For fear of Parangosky trying something on him while he made his way here.

Whatever, he supposed. His mission was to find Kincaid and the other surviving members of the Insurrection, and detain or kill them. Though, looking at the mobile command center hidden in the back of a truck and with his command crew all around (Mostly SPARTAN washouts) he couldn't help but think it was a hefty order. Food riots were commonplace, rioters duking it out with police forces using RPGs and improvised weapons, not too mention the horribly disfigured streets made it difficult to get around.

Oh well, Volpe thought, at last the Insurrection didn't trade Covenant weapons yet.

The Rubble would be dealt with long before the problem would show itself.

"Sir!" Volpe, Captain Volpe, turned around to see Soren and Ralph approaching him as Lieutenant Fink, his new hand-picked ONI staff member, and Serin were busy going over SAT images of the planet.

"Yes?" Volpe said as he addressed the two SPARTAN washouts.

"Rioters are beginning to march straight for the malls, and a few of our sensors that we managed to place inside the city was able to pick up faint traces of chemicals common to RPGs," Ralph replied.

Volpe grabbed his chin and looked at the group. He had opted to bring only his Staff and SPARTAN washouts, which meant he had no additional forces. Even so, the SPARTANs by themselves were more than enough.

"Soren," Volpe called one of the tougher and rougher SPARTANs, "are you ready to play sniper?"

The SPARTAN washout grinned widely.

- **Thel** -

Thel felt anger swell inside him as Zhar and Saal were kicked into the pitiful holding cell these Unggoy had constructed. It was a great dishonor for him to be captured, a Sangheili, by a lesser race such as the Unggoy.

He felt his anger boil, he had not expected so many ships to be guarding the planet. It made his blood boil. On this planet of Balaho, Thel thought it a disgrace for an entire planet to be named by such a weak species, he was strippes of his honor by these weak honorless creatures. Veer had even died during the boarding as the creatures tossed grenade after grenade onto the bridge.

He bear witness to Jora, one of his zealots, be crushed under an uncountable number of Unggoy after he tried to escape. To attack a bounded warrior with such numbers, how damning! He felt the need to kill them all. To shed blood, even as he ignored the blood dripping down his face.

He would need to see a _filthy_ doctor soon. A warrior going so low as to shed blood of other Sangheili without honor. Such a desecration of his name as Kaidon of the Vadam keep.

Blood must be spilled, he demanded.

One of the Unggoy moved forward, and Thel felt his hands clench when he saw that him wearing the SpecOps patented black. _Traitor_ , he yelled in his mind.

"Shipmaster Thel Vadamee," the Unggoy said as he stared at Thel, his voice commanding. If only it came from a species of higher and greater stature.

"Unggoy," Thel spat with disdain as Zhar and Saal glowered at the diminutive creature.

"Boho," the Unggoy repeated, "That is Commander Boho of the Free Unggoy Nation."

Thel felt bile rise in his throat, for a lesser species to name a government, to openly _rebel_ was vile in and of itself. To name oneself Commander, to speak so haughtily to him- A Kaidon, was blasphemy. His blood demanded death. The blood of Sangheili, not prone to politics and riled with vehemence and hatred, demanded the Unggoy's head for stripping him of his honor. To be taken prisoner was damning.

"I will not bow my head to you," Thel swore. Boho shook his head and crossed his arms over his head.

"Of that you have my respect," Boho stated easily. Thel felt his mandibles click, he needed not the Unggoy's pity. He needed his honor back, for he knew if word spread back to his Keep, his lineage would be exterminated from the Vadam and his name lost to the saga. "When I look at you, Sangheili, I see that most of my people's hatred of you was well-founded. Lording around with talk of nobility in your blood, of honor and stature. Hiding the fact that your are bullies, that you are creatures fully immersed in your childish idea of _strong_ and _warriors._ "

Thel growled lowly even as Zhar pulled against his chains.

"But when I look at you, I feel a deep seated respect. Perhaps in these long forgotten memories of this old SpecOps, I had one looked up to you. Admired your kind even. Now though, I am Commander, and I know- _I_ stand above _you."_

" _You are below me,"_ Thel hissed.

"And you have lost your honor." Boho grunted and nodded to the injury on Thel's head, "You are injured and captured. You have experienced the greatest dishonor. Whatever nobility you think runs through your veins, you have sadly spilled it."

The Unggoy almost looked wistful, as though he couldn't imagine what he was seeing. Finally he shook his head and said. "We will hand you to the humans, let them do as you wish. My benefactor has told me you have a role to play but looking at you know, perhaps that role has been stripped from you too."

Thel felt his anger spike harder, "You work with the heretics! Vile creatures, unholy aliens. You desecrate the Path you filthy Unggoy."

Boho chuckled, as though greatly amused by his religious fervor. "You should wait to see, fallen Sangheili. Those unholy aliens have summoned demons far greater than either you or I."

Thel heard the doors open and was surprised when the Unggoy slammed a fist into his head, right on the gash, and felt his eyes stir in pain. Then the next hit sent him to blissful unconsciousness.

- **Delgado** -

Delgado breathed in deeply, still staring at his freighter quietly. Madrigal sat carefully behind him and the young teenager, well hell could he really be called such anymore, had to sigh wistfully.

It was years ago when the Covenant appeared over Madrigal that Delgado was looking at he planet like his. Evacuation shuttles and sent him away, his parents crying tightly and his young body holding Maria as they feared the coming storm.

The next thing that happened though, was a dozen UNSC ships, led by Admiral Cole himself, appearing from slipspace ruptures, and holding the line against the Covenant. The aliens routed but the Unsc had only taken three of their ships while losing six. Then Cole was gone again.

Delgado knew he owes the UNSC. His mother and father too had grown respectful. Even in the face of the alien threat, the UNSC had been able to keep their promise and maintain peace in the Outer Colonies.

While there were many Insurrectionist sympathizers in Madrigal, though Earth-fist citizens outnumbered them, the entire planet was still under UNSC control. Delgado feared what that meant though. He feared the idea of the brewing civil war as loyal UNSC supporters firmed up their faith and rebels grew more restless.

The Insurrectionist was broadcasted as dead and gone, their capital destroyed and their leadership left to rubble, but it wouldn't be long before another one sprouts.

That was why he was here and that was why he prayed Maria forgave him. "Keep the ship steady," Delgado murmured to his copilot Melko. His friend bobbed his head and flipped a few switches to engage thrusters.

The Rubble, an Insurrectionist base around the gas giant Hesoid, was dead on their sights.

Delgado breathed in quietly, knowing most of the surviving Insurrectionists had retreated here. And silently hoped that Diego had already left today.

Opening the cargo hold he walked in to see four people standing there, their backs turned to him. "We are here," Delgado muttered.

A man dressed in old, almost laughably flashy 80's style, turned to him and nodded. A man in a sweater next to him sharing the sentiment. Two men with stylized Kevlar masks bumped fist and they all turned towards the airlock as it docked onto the Rubble.

Two armed rebels appeared and Delgado held his stomach when they were sent flying into the ceiling, their heads snapping against the bulkhead.

"Let's go," Booker said as the four DI Operatives moved to finish the job Kestrel and Archer had died doing.


	26. Chapter 26

Parangosky muttered quietly to herself as she watched the various reports go by her screen. Most of them were files on the Covenant, but as ONI she had kept up with maintaining hands in all the places that could be threats to humanity. While the Insurrectionists have run cold, for now, she knew better than to suspect they were completely gone.

She kept files on all of the UNSC personnel rising in power, especially one Terrence Hood who she suspected was going to be appointed as the Admiral of the Fleet. Lord Hood, some people had begun calling him. She found the little joke ironic in its own way, especially how the UNSC was fighting against an enemy that metaphorical still used lords and fiefdoms.

But most of her ONI assets, the ones that people couldn't say were entirely legal, were keeping their eyes trained on the wildcards. The Covenant were an enemy but there was still a line they had yet crossed and while the Outer Colonies suffered a little bit, the war wasn't as drastic as one might think. Even without shields, which the UNSC would be reverse-engineering soon, the fleet was expected to at least hold the line for a while.

ONI could do better than that though and had been able to worm out some information out of their 'allies', the Kig-Yar while the Unggoy were so relatively isolated they didn't know anything important in the galaxy. Parangosky frowned as she thought about those aliens that had 'allied' themselves with humanity. She wasn't sure what compelled her to listen to _that_ man when he had broached her on the subject but a spark of interest had just wormed its way up her spine while she listened. Worse still she felt like _Mr_ Brieler had expected that of her, as though he had _ensured_ her cooperation somehow. Even so, she thought, I never enter a deal without a backup plan.

All of the slipspace drives given to the Kig-Yar had a special directive on them. With one push of a button all of them would shut off and enter a catastrophic meltdown, should the aliens ever cross them. The Kig-Yar homeworld, their entire solar system really, had been marked down and a Prowler was always on standby to nuke it from orbit. The Unggoy were pitiful creatures, and with their relative primitiveness Parangosky had thought it would be easy to manipulate them. However the opposite had happened, well in a manner of speaking. The Free Unggoy Nation, as they were calling themselves, had gained headway in uniting Balaho but there were still some stubborn tribes. Not too mention, they now had a massive fleet right from the get go. Parangosky was concerned they were growing too fast, and eventually when the war with the Covenant was over they could be looking at a war with the Unggoy just for space.

She already had plans though. Dissidents had been spread among the less conforming of the tribes, made from one or two slipped in ONI agents among the trainers that the UNSC had sent, and eventually Parangosky would instigate a civil war on Balaho. Weakening the Unggoy nation and perhaps the UNSC could swoop in and make them owe the humans a debt of gratitude. So long as they weren't a threat, Parangosky was fine with entertaining ideas of letting their species maintain their ability of space travel.

Kig-Yar were far too dangerous as a species, what with their ingrained pirating ways, but Unggoy were far more malleable.

She sighed as she set her cup of coffee down. In the end her work was for the greater go. She knew that she would go to hell one of these days, if it existed, and as an Admiral of the UNSC she would damn well accept it. She knew her job, and it was to keep the UNSC safe. No matter the means. No matter the end.

That was why she had conflicting feelings about this one _person_ who had appeared and started changing everything. This Tom Brieler was a threat but not in the traditional sense. He was a growing power and she doubted he even realised that. A PMC head, with a company that had made achievements and discoveries far beyond that of the market or even the UNSC. He had elite troopers that held whole scores of Covenant at bay and ever-evolving weapons. First the ME-Rifle Series then the L1's, each right after ONI had begun making their own versions of a Gauss rifle and a Laser Rifle. Dimensional Intervention had cut back ONI by a large margin. To add to this, the PMC wasn't even in the public domain. All of its shares was held squarely by the man in charge and that person was _young_ , still full of life and vigor. He was a destabilising figurehead.

The balance between the military and the people were shifting. Eventually, before this boy could even realise what he had done, people would flock to him just because of his power and he'd have built a pseudo sovereignty before he could even stop it. The only reason why the UNSC's own intelligence division didn't cut him loose yet was because it was clear that he supported the UNSC completely. Giving them discounts, supplying them weapons and soldiers. But Parangosky never looked at an olive branch without a little bit of suspicion.

He was too prepared, too willing. He's planning something and it grated on her nerves that she didn't know. She tried to get men inside, but DI was never hiring nor did they work with anyone outside. The scientists inside looked like they slept in the same building together and the soldiers, the DI's HECU, were always wide awake and keeping a watchful eye everywhere. .

Dr Freeman and Dr Vahlen had also yielded low results when she had managed to wrangle them into the MJOLNIR project and subtly brought in a few agents among the staff to try and pull anything out of them. Nothing had came out of it.

Still, even without information, she had her backup plans set. A standard slander operation would be enough to take Mr Brieler off the pedestal and then getting rid of him would be easy, minus the soldiers if they were still employed by him. Still, she knew that the man wasn't somebody that she could easily toy with. She knew he had spies in her ranks, with one she was pretty sure on while two more she couldn't quite pinpoint. But she had played this game for years.

Her agents may not have been able to slip inside, but they had placed more than enough microphones and snapped enough pictures for her to be able to gain _some_ insight into the PMC head. She had agents set up and ready to spring a trap in a moments notice. She had swept her room and office over again to make sure that there weren't any listening devices. She was always careful, just this time she was extra careful.

When the war was over, she would divert most of what she had on Brieler. Because she knew the best chance to stop an Insurrection, was to kill it at its source. Even if he didn't even know he was.

- **Tom** -

"What's she doing?" Tom asked Arc as the Mandalorian sat down next to a computer, watching Parangosky every move.

"Just looking at reports," Arc replied evenly, never taking his eyes off the screen. Tom was a little unnerved with how seriously the Mandalorian was taking the whole assignment and quietly chewed on his gum (ugh, he hated gum) while flicking through the reports sent in by the TWO Operatives, The Bioshock Operatives, The Clones and some of the Mandalorians he had sent out.

Covenant were starting to get desperate, Tom thought. They were throwing more ships and more troops than what Tom believed was native to canon. He had to pull the Clones back into the fight, to which they didn't complain. For now at least. Bravo and Alpha hopped back and forth in the outer colonies, while the Bioshock brothers stayed close within the Inner Colonies, just in case one of the Covenant pulled a Truth and decided to drop in over one of them with half a fleet.

"What are these reports?" Tom asked, hoping to stave off some boredom.

"Stuff on Balaho, the Unggoy fleet and the situation with Shipmaster Thel 'Vadamee." Arc didn't look at him as he continued to work through the computers. So diligent, Tom thought, he was half-tempted to pour hot coffee on his back to see if he got a reaction.

Tom however decided that antagonising his friend was counter productive and returned to eyeing the reports sent in. But after a few seconds he shut them off and rubbed his eyes.

He knew he should be reading them but he was just mentally exhausted for now. Not to mention he hadn't had a goodnights rest in months. The dreams were coming back in, these times they were more frequent and fragmented.

And they made him think. Very, very hard.

 _I smiled widely as I stepped into the meadow fields. I nice quiet place away from it all. Well, quiet enough he supposed. Didn't really mean much nowadays. What with the Third World War brewing all over._

 _The JSF uniforms were particularly killer on his skin. "Dad!" A young girl's voice said. I blinked, not quite masking my surprise, and melted inside when a little girl wrapped her hands around me._

 _The smile on my face was tight, but it didn't lack any warmth. My daughter, and it felt weird saying that, was holding onto me. Such a young innocent girl, it still felt overwhelmingly weird knowing I was now her father. At one point I was just a stumbling baffoon who found himself naked in the street. Granted I was a stumbling baffoon that could see through walls and become detached from his body; hovering over the sky to issue out commands to soldiers and see warfare above the shoulder of another._

" _Hello there Margaret," I whispered quietly. My wife was behind her but her smile was serene even behind her milky white eyes. Its funny when you think about it. A man that could almost see everything marrying a woman that couldn't see anything. But sometimes I like to think she had a farther sight range than me._

 _So I sat and silently mumbled to my daughter sweet nothings, even while my wife wrapped her hands around me. Silently, I enjoyed their company, even as I watched through the skies as Spetznaz soldiers made their way through a city about seventy kilometers east and that soon I would have to rejoin the war._

A family...that never occurred to him before now that he thought about it. Even as he pondered on the meaning behind his dreams with his... _predecessors_ , he still could not help his mind wander.

Before he was Tom Brieler the PMC head, he was Tom Brieler the High School student. While he had fumbled and stumbled around the Halo universe, somehow not screwing anything up too bad (which he was often paranoid he did), he had not since thought about those days as often as he should.

He could recall some pleasant memories at the back of his head. Moments where he finished a day of school and thoughts of him having his own daughter and wife to care for filled his mind. Those memories were still there. The dreams helped remind him of that.

But still there were less pleasant dreams that passed by.

 _Chains were dragged from my body, ripping flesh from bone and gnawing deep trenches throughout my tibia. I bit back a scream but even then it was only slightly._

" _Oh that almost hurt Quan Chi," I muttered but I was drop dead lying. Holy fucking shit! That really fucking hurts! And I'm swearing my head right now as an outlet because if I swear out loud the bitch in front of me will know his really close to breaking me._

" _You are not of Earthrealm," Quan Chi muttered. Yea I guessed he'd caught on to that fact. Still, I sent a surge of power into my arms._

 _That was the best I could do. The only thing I can do at last. I couldn't match Sonya's or Liu Kang's skill or Johnny's inhumanness, but I could give myself enough power ups to stand up to my opposition._

" _There are better pickup lines than that," I muttered, "and aren't you breaking the rules of Mortal Kombat? Keeping me here is direct violation of the agreement."_

 _Quan Chi smiled, "Of which Raiden has already broken, with you standing before me, not of Earthrealm origin."_

" _Oh sucker punch," I said in faux bravado, staring at many long and painful looking instruments. "Well fuck me."_

Tom grimaced. Nope. Erasing it from his mind without a single thought, though Tom knew it would return with a vengeance sooner or later, he stood up from his chair and walked towards the window of his building.

He wished he knew what was going on with him. The dreams were one thing but his powers wonking out was another. Sometimes Tom wouldn't be able to remember certain times and when he asked Arc the Mandalorian would say he had been behaving oddly but nothing more and that these odd behaviours from him would be mirrored by those around him.

Tom knew he could affect thoughts but had maintained to small urgings, little directional point outs to people to get them going. He hadn't gone as far as to affect people's emotional state and him having no recollection of the events meant that it was a minor enough incident for the universe to reset every time he did it. Then came the brief but undoubtable lapse of control he had of his powers. The Covenant corvette disappearing and the small but recently occurring levitating objects that appeared around him whenever he was stressed.

Tom had stayed inside the Dimensional Intervention's building for the past month. Not trusting himself to go bonkers outside the building. Vahlen had been running regular tests on him but she herself only had a rough idea of what was going on. Even then, it was a weird situation for her. She had worked with vast technology that were superior to hers before but biological technology that had somehow given someone the ability to manipulate the universe? She found the challenge ravishing.

He sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly at the same time.

"I feel like hot lead," he muttered.

"Look like it too," Arc replied.

And then Tom cracked a grin. He stared at the setting sun of Tribute and let his mind wander through the dreams. But for one reason or another, he stumbled back to a singular phrase.

 _Submission to reality, is submission to us._

- **Halsey** -

Halsey muttered quietly to herself as she stood beside Vahlen in DI's lab on Tribute. Miranda was somewhere else in the building, entertaining herself with the buildings many little intricacies while Halsey was being presented to a new invention made by Dr Vahlen.

When she had received a call from Vahlen, she was slightly afraid of what the implications of which would mean. She was terrified that perhaps ONI had decided to cut some loose ends and the DI scientists was calling to warn her. But she erased that thought quickly when she realised the silliness of it. ONI needed her, and they wouldn't just off her before she had served her usefulness completely.

So when she had answered the call, Vahlen had been very curt to her. Telling her that she had breakthrough in something and that she needed her help for it. Though she seemed to say so grudgingly. Halsey was curious though and had decided to provide as much assistance as possible. If it was one thing that she had measuredly gained insight on in her work with the SPARTAN project, it was that DI was surprisingly humane, if a little bit liberal in their choice of personnel.

So when she arrived on Tribute with Miranda in tow, and after informing Jacob and her school, Halsey had walked into DI's front door to find the building almost largely empty save for the BDU wearing guards that guarded the main floor. The receptionist was a soldier as well and had curtly lead her upstairs to the lab in the building.

For a moment Halsey had worried that she may have stepped out of one military operation into another. But she steeled her nerves before she jumped to any conclusions. Afterwards she met up with Vahlen who had introduced her to...space magic? Better to call it science-fiction.

She had showed her Psionics, which had something to do with a person's natural willpower and their genetic adaptability. It was breathtaking work. She however had noted how there seemed to be something else, something that wasn't Psionics, being smashed together with it.

Vahlen had curtly told her it was called Biotics. It was somewhat the same as Psionics however was caused due to a certain element and had different effects and... _powers_ in comparison.

"I need another set of eyes on this," Vahlen said as she stared at her work table. Halsey eyed the microscopes curiously, especially at the glowing blue substance beneath them.

"I'll have to think about it. I have Miranda now," Halsey said seriously. Of course she would have to think about it. Her work on the SPARTAN project was unethical already and the UNSC MED Corp had outlawed brain mutations, of which her project crossed. These Psionics would no doubt do the same, and would eventually lead to prying eyes on them.

Vahlen blinked, and Halsey thought she saw the ghost of a smile on her, before nodding her head curtly. "I understand your inhibitions. Should SPARTAN ever become disclosed there are certain...ramifications to you and your family."

Halsey sighed, "I'm still wondering if I made the right decision in coming back into her life." If it did, then a lot of things would happen and Halsey wasn't sure if she was willing to drag them into that.

Vahlen shook her head, "But please think about Dr Halsey. The work her could give humanity an even sharper edge against the Covenant. While they haven't spill over into the Core Worlds, it's just a matter of time. Cole is a great strategist but even he is being overwhelmed with their numbers." She paused here, "And the Psionics do not really mutate a person's brain," she confided, "Or they would have probably. However my research into Biotics has allowed me to attach the abilities of Psionics into an implant into the brain. It skirts around the issue as it's not really brain mutation rather a device in the brain that generates the ability. However this version greatly reduces the Psionics ability, but we may be able to cover that up with something else."

Halsey was a little bit suspicious with this 'something else' but couldn't help but feel intrigued. This was something that she had never encountered before and, yes, the UNSC had been trying to achieve this for years, and the scientific community had as well, but the efforts of Dimensional Intervention made it seem...plausible.

It can be achieved, even if she would need a minute to understand the science a little bit better. But she couldn't bring herself down to the level of the SPARTAN project again. "Will we be using test subjects?" She asked pointedly. Of course they would be, but the question was _what_?

"Yes, we will. We will begin with testing on primates and we will move on from there. The test subjects will also be willing members of the DI Operatives, not young children, however the younger they are the better as the process will be very painful for them if their body actively rejects the implants and the...other modifications." Halsey's nose crinkled at that but she could understand the professional honesty.

"I'll have to think about it," Halsey said, "I'm curious though, why me?"

Vahlen frowned slightly, "Because the expert in this particular field is currently somewhere fixing toys onto more toys. And while I am able to understand the concepts of them easily, I can't juggle between them like this while trying to create an operable Implant," Vahlen said, "And the foudner of Dimensional Intervention had personally requested you."

Halsey blinked, "Me?" She glanced at Vahlen and was slightly erred that the russian woman gave her a knowing smile, as though she was in on some cosmic secret. Halsey didn't like being played with.

"Rest assured," Vahlen said, "His intentions are strictly pure." Her tone was wry as she glanced at her. Halsey felt her lips curl downwards at the sarcasm and huffed a breath.

"Again, I'll have to think about it," Halsey muttered. "And can I expect that DI would be selling these Implants, if they are ever finished, to the UNSC at a discount?"

Vahlen smirked, "And send phonies rigged with bombs to any surviving Innies."

Halsey couldn't help but feel like DI was a little bit _too_ loyal to the UNSC.


End file.
